
THY NEIGHBOR'^ 

WIFE 




Glass JS-^563_ 
Book ' EIS44 i TV 



THY NEIGHBOR'S 

WIFE 



AN ORIGINAL DRAMA 
IN FOUR ACTS 




BY 

CLARENCE BENNETT 

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED) 



Copyrighted 1910, by Clarence Bennett 






lycader Press, Corning, N. Y, 



ID ^2{)^7Z 



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THY NEIGHBOR'S WIFE 



CAST OP CHARACTERS. 

JOHN ALLSTON, a chemist. 

BLANCHE ALLSTON, his wife. 

CLAUDIA ALLSTON, their daughter. 

JUDGE CHARLES WILCUTT, ("Uncle Charlie,") a college chum of 
Allston. 

NELLIE WILCUTT, the Judge's daughter, living with the Allstons. 

EDWARD JONES, a broker, in love with Mrs. Allston. 

FRANK BARTLETT, affianced to Claudia. 

WATSON, Jones' chauffeur. • 

JAMES, servant in the Allston home. 

TIME. The Present. Scene. In the Home of the Allston's in New 
York. The action of the play takes place in four consecutive days. 

ACTS I. II, AND III. The living room of the Allston Mansion. 

ACT IV. The Laboratory and Library at Allston. 

ACT I. SCENE. Handsome Drawing Room set, Doors R. 2 and 
L. 3. Fireplace L. 2 with fire and mantle shelf. Large double door 
opening or arch. L, C. in flats, in 3d grooves, backed by glazed 
hallway, like a conservatory, with a few plants, showing fine residence 
street through the glass. Writing table with notes or Mss. papers, 
onion-shaped bottle of liquid, pen and ink on it, R. of C. Chair L, of 
table. Large easy chair and footstool or hassock L. by fireplace. 
Cabinet with glass doors and pigeon-holes, up L. 3. with decanter 
of wine and glasses on it. Screen (seven feet high) fror^t — (that is L. 
of) — cabinet. Other furniture and rich furnishings to dress room. 
CLAUDIA discovered sitting in easy chair, near fireplace with book. 
NELLIE enters D. L. 3. laughing. 

NELLIE. O, Claw! It's just too much fun! Ha, ha, ha! 

CLAU. What's the matter, Nellie? 

NELLIE. You know dear old Dad is so peppery; and I can just 
get him crazy about the Unknown! He swells up and gets red in 
the face like a Christmas gobbler, every time I "Moon" about my myth 
lover! Ha, ha, ha! 

CLAUDIA, (smiling, puts hand on Nellie's head.) Nel, look me in 
the eye! Is this lover a myth? 

NELLIE. Why, of course! That is, he is anonymous, as far as I 
know. I mean I don't know his name. 

CLAU. You don't know his name? Nellie, you've been flirting! 

NELLIE. No, I haven't! I was regularly introduced to him! 

CLAU. Introduced and yet you do not know his name? 

NEL. Yes! You see, when I was up in Vermont, last summer, two 
high school teams had a game of foot ball. The local team smuggled 
in a fine center rush — Oh, he was a wonder. Claw! — They hid his name 
for fear the other team would claim they had a professional. He is 



from some big college team; I couldn't find out which one. Oh, he 
was just the sweetest thing that was ever upholstered for a pig- 
skin scrimmage! 

CLAU. Nellie! 

NEL, Well, he was! Aunt Dorothy introduced us. She said he was 
a dear friend of hers, but that she was not at liberty to tell his name, 
(tragically) till the future should unseal her lips! And she made me 
swear the most awful oath that I wouldn't tell dear old Daddy she 
had anything to do with it. 

CLAU. What! Your staid, dignified Aunt Dorothy? Why did she 
do that? 

NEL. Why, Dad his his head set, — (and you know how hard Dad's 
head is!) on, my marrying a name-sake of his, in Boston — Charles 
Wilcutt Winthrop, the son of a rich old fellow, who was a classmate 
of his and your father's. 

CLAU. But what has this to do with Aunt Dorothy? 

NEL. Why, don't you see? Dad has sent forth the Imperial Ukase, 
the family edict, that his plans about me MUST GO! and there isn't 
one of the breed who dares set himself up against "The Judge!" not 
even Aunt Dot. So I am to be thrown, like a Circassian slave, to 
this Boston Puritan Pasha, whom I have never seen and never care to 
see. Hence Aunt D.'s blood-curdling oath of secrecy! 
■ CLAU. Well, and what are you going to do about it? 

NEL. Why, I am Daddy Judge's own daughter, and I have inherited 
some things from him — among them his love of football — (he used to 
be center rush at college, you know.) Then I have a hard head of 
my own. (raps head.) See? I owe him that, too. I'll marry the 
football player, or anybody else, if I want to! But I won't be thrown 
at the head of this Boston ogre, as a cooked-up bride, garnished with 
mushrooms, — No! I mean orange blossoms! 

CLAU. Nellie! You're shocking! 

NELLIE. I don't care if I am! I like to be! I'm a little rebel! I'm 
an anarchist! A Nihilist! I want liberty! I'll marry Charlie if I 
like! 

CLAU. Charlie? Why, you do know his name, then. 

NEL. Yes, his before-name. You see he writes to me through Aunt 
Dot, and he signs it "Charlie!" Say! It's funny his name is Charlie, 
the same as the wonderful Charles Wilcutt Winthrop, of Boston, Puri- 
tan pedigree, descendant of Gov. Winthrop and other of the Mayflower's 
cargo ! 

CLAU. O, Nellie! You're incorrigible! 

NEL. Well, I'm glad of it! 

JUDGE, (enters D. L. Flat from R.) Good morning, girls! 

CLAU. Good morning. Uncle Judge! 

NEL. (aside to Clau. going to her father.) Watch me! (in his arms, 
kisses him, sadly.) Daddy dear! (sighs loud.) Heigh-ho! 

JUDGE, (holding her in his arms.) What's the matter, Nel? Stom- 
ach ache? 

NEL. (turns round in his arms, back to him, indignantly.) Stom- 
ach ache? No! I have passed the paregoric stage! (slight struggle to 
free herself.) 

JUDGE. Indeed? I hadn't noticed it. 



NEL. Humph! 

JUDGE, (teasingly.) Has 'oo dot a pain in 'oo betweenness? 

NEL. (ducks quickly downward out of his arms, facing him.) No I 
haven't! The pain is in my heart! 

JUDGE. Pleurisy or indi-^estion ? (sits L. of table.) 

NEL. Neither, thank you! It's love! 

JUDGE, Much the same thing! Who are you in love with? Your- 
self? 

NEL. Yovi cruel old thing! My other self — the dear Unknown! 

JUDGE. Unknown fiddle-stick! That Vermont clod-hopper yap, that 
tried to play football? \ 

NEL. (indignantly.) Yap! — Clod-hopper! 

JUDGE, (laughing.) You can always tell 'em! They're all pigeon- 
toed from walking in a furrow! 

NEL. (puts hand over his mouth. Rapidly.) Well, he isn't pigeon- 
toed, and he isn't a clod-hopper and he isn't a yap! See? He's a col- 
lege man! There! 

JUDGE. What college? What college? 

NEL. I don't know! 

JUDGE. Humph! No, nor anybody else! 

NEL. He's center rush in his college team! 

JUDGE. How do you know? If he were, that would be something in 
his favor; but there's no evidence in his case. What's the fool's name? 

NEL. Charlie! 

JUDGE. Charlie? Charlie what? 

NEL. (shakes head sadly.) I don't know! (sighs loud.) 

JUDGE. Oh! I suppose his family was too poor to afford more than 
one name for him! Ha, ha, ha! "Charlie!" Humph! So, he's a 
"Charlie boy!" 

NEL. (quickly.) They don't make Center Ruses out of "Charlie 
Boys." I suppose that Boston Dude is a "Chollie boy!" Say, Daddy! 
Your name is Charlie! 

JUDGE, (warmly.) Young woman, my name is Charles! I'm not 
one of your confounded "Chollie boys!" By Jingo! 

CLAU. (laughing.) Nellie, you're terrible! Don't mind her. Uncle 
Judge. She's just a mischievous little tease! 

NEL. (to Clau. warmly.) Tease? Tease? Maybe you think I'm 
just suffering this way for fun! I suppose you think it's amusing to 
have one's heart ache as though it would burst! 

JLTDGE. You in love! Bosh! It strikes me you're in love with noth- 
ing in particular but a fool idea. You get down out of the clouds, young 
lady, and do just plain thinking! 

NEL. (dramatically. Clau. laughs aside.) O Father! my life's hap- 
piness is in his keeping! 

JUDGE, (warmly, — rising.) Twaddie! You know about as much 
of life as a monkey does of grammar! 
NEL. (acting.) Father!!! 

JUDGE. If there's anyone in the world that has an absolute genius 
for idiocy, it's a romantic young girl in love! I'd be another idiot if 
I'd let you plan your own future! I've arranged to see you married 
to a man! 



NEL. Thanks, awfully! I didn't suppose you'd try to marry me to 
a woman! 

JUDGE. Humph! A man had better raise pigs than daughters! 
They're less risk and trouble and more profit! 

NEL. (indignantly.) Pigs! Pigs! Well! 

JUDGE. Yes! Or hens! They don't try to do their own thinking, 
and you can control them with a picket fence! 

NEL, (tragically, falling on knees.). Father! Dear Father! We 
only need your consent to be so happy! 

CLAU. (aside to her.) Nellie! Behave yourself! 

JUDGE, (astonished and angry.) What's this? Has the young fool 
asked you to marry him? 

NEL. No, Father dearest; but the "Young fool" will in his next let- 
ter. 

JUDGE, (picks her up by elbows and shakes her.) NEXT letter! 
NEXT letter! So! You have been corresponding with him, have you? 

NEL. (demurely.) Yes, Papa-angel, if you please! 

JUDGE, (jamming her down in chair.) Well, Papa-angel, don't 
please! You've got to stop this blank nonsense at once, do you hear? 

NEL. Yes, Papa, I will, if he don't write any more. 

JUDGE, (up C.) Love letters! Bah! You're not out of pinafores 
yet! You've got about as much mind as an oyster! 

NEL. Well, Papa sweet, that may be a matter of pedigree! 

JUDGE. Not in my family! (Nel. laughs.) Don't let me hear any 
more of this fool love affair, young lady! 

NEL. All right. Papa-love! Charlie and I'll keep it to ourselves. 

JUDGE, (up near D. L. F.) Well I'll be (to Claudia.) I beg 

your pardon! I'll have to take a walk or I'll lose my temper! (Exits D. 
L. F. and off L.) 

NEL. (laughing.) He's starting a little late! 

CLAU. Nellie, you're a bad, naughty, little wretch! You ought to 
be punished! 

NEL. (laughing.) I know it! Ha, ha, ha! 

CLAU. O Nellie! I couldn't treat my father that way! 

NEL. (comes back to Clau. and throws arms around her neck.) Of 
course not! You haven't the same kind of a father. Why, Claw, if I 
was to treat Dad as you do Uncle John, he'd be frightened to death! 
He'd think I was sick! Besides, he enjoys it! The exercise keeps him 
from getting liver-grown; and then it works up his circulation! It's 
better that football! Ha, ha, ha! 

JUDGE, (re-entering.) That little lobster can certainly bring me to 
a boil! 

NEL. (salaams to him.) Salaam to the "Little Lobster's" Pa- -Pa, 
the "Boiled Lobster!" 

BLANCHE, (entering D. R. 2. in auto dress.) Oh! Good morning:, 
Judge ! 

JUDGE. Good morning, Blanche! You're as bloomy as April! 

BLANCHE. How very neat! Ah, Judge! You're a born courtier! 

JUDGE. Humph! I hope not! That's another name for a born liar 
or a born fool! 

CLAU. You got back quickly, Mother! 

NEL. Yes, Aunt Blanche. I thought you went over to Mrs. Van- 
Zant's to conspire and plot about the charity Bazaar. 



BLANCHE. I did, but I forgot Mr. Jones' list of the principal work- 
ers. , (takes list from pocketbook.) Copy it for me, Dear. (Nellie 
does so, leaving the original, which is a duplicate in appearance of the 
letter left there later, lying on table.) 

JUDGE. Hello I What new crimes is Society plotting in the sacred 
name of Charity? 

BLANCHE, (laughing.) O Judge! You're a cynic! 

JUDGE. Thanks! That's a compliment! That Society's name for 
a philosopher! Society hates and fears the men who do their own 
thinking and speak the truth! 

BLANCHE. O Judge! That's blasphemy against the "Four Hun- 
dred!" 

JUDGE. Well, I don't worship that effete, painted joss; so I don't 
tremble to blaspheme it! 

BLANCHE. Oh, I've seen you at that shrine! I meet you, occasion- 
ally, at social functions. 

JUDGE. Yes. I go out of curiosity; but I always feel like as big a 
fool as the other fellows look! Standing round in their dress coats 
and white breasts, they look like a lot of stupid cranes at the "Zoo!" 
(all laugh.) In fact, it's a good deal like a menagerie. There are 
tigers and sheep and wolves and deer and snakes and geese and swine 
and no end of monkeys, — in fact everything that Noah put into the 
Ark! (all laugh.) 

NEL. Dad has an animal streak on today! I'm a lobster! I sup- 
pose. Claw, you're a swan! 

JUDGE. No! She's the dove that brought the olive branch! 

CLAU. (bowing.) Oh, how nice! Thanks, Uncle Judge! for the 
compliment! 

BLANCHE. Judge, your ideas would overturn Society! 

JUDGE. I'd bring order out of chaos! I'd label the exhibits, so when 
people were looking at the live stock, they'd know which was which. 
For instance: Exhibit No. 1, Mrs. Brewer — Name suggests origin — Fine 
animal — short pedigree, running back to a beer barrel! Exhibit No. 2, 
Miss Van Wart. Registered. Blooded stock. Fine points. Long pedi- 
gree. First ancestor made fortune out of corn medicine! Exhibit No. 
3, Ernest McAleer — Fine, large, fat animal — sired by a long line of 
Wall Street robbers and damned by all honest people! 

NEL. (with mock horror.) O Daddy! You said "D "! 

JUDGE. Well, I meant "D "! 

CLAU. (laughing.) But, Uncle Judge! How about the ladies? 

JUDGE. Oh, the scheming mamas trot out their debutante live- 
stock, their fillies, — round the track to be examined and bid on; the 
widows do their own trotting round and showing off without leading 
— and the male guests? Well, you can't tell them from the waiters, ex- 
cept that the waiters have more sense and are more use in the world 
and get their money honestly! 

BLANCHE, (laughing.) Why, Judge! You're worse than Mr. Alls- 
ton! He ignores Society; while you are in open rebellion! 

JUDGE. Your husband shows his good sense, Maam! What would 
a giant, like him, look like among those pigmies? It would be like a 
battleship trying to maneuver in a frog-puddle! (going L.) I'll go 
and dig him out of his think-den! (Exits D. L. 3.) 



NEL, Do! And let us smooth our ruffled feathers! (all laugh.) Oh, 
Dad's the Black Pirate of the Spanish Maine, with a cross-bones flag 
and a fierce moustache! 

CLAU. He's the wittiest man in New York! If he shoots the arrow 
of Truth straight at the mark, he feathers the shaft with kindly humor. 

NEL. Tell us. Aunt Blanche, about the De Beers' party, last night. 
Was it swell doings? 

BLANCHE. Of course, my dear! The De Beers never do anything 
by halves. Mr. Jones said he thought it the finest social function of 
the season so far. Mr. Jones, you know, is an authority, — the most 
perfect societj'^ man in the city, and the arbiter in such matters. All 
the best people were there. I never had a more enjoj^able evening! 

NEL. Of course you danced lots! 

BLANCHE. Who could help it, with such music and such company! 
And then the De Beers have the finest private ball room in New York! 

NEL. Tell us. Aunt Blanche. Whom did you waltz with? 

BLANCHE. Let me see! Five waltzes with Mr. Jones and two or 
three beside these. 

NEL. What! You danced with him more than with all the rest! 

BLANCHE. My dear, you know he is the finest waltzer in the City! 

NEL. You didn't dance every dance, did you? 

BLANCHE. No, dear. I was so warm and tired, after the last 
waits, and Mr. Jones took me to the Conservatory. It was so cool and 
beautiful there, — like a tropic forest, — all palms and orchids! 

NEL, And who took you to supper? 

BLANCHE. Mr. Jones, of course. I went to the ball with him. 

NEL, Yes, But 3^ou hardly ever go to supper with your escort, 

CLAU, (in chair L.) Mother, you have spoken of him eight times 
and Father only once! 

BLANCHE, (annoyed.) Your father was not at the ball, Claudia; 
and that was the subject of conversation. He has absolutely no taste 
for Society and cares for nothing but his musty chemicals. He lives 
in the Dark Ages, among the Alchemists! 

CLAU. (with enthusiasm, rises and comes L. C.) No, Mother! In 
the coming age, — the age of steel and lightning! — of advancement and 
the world's evolution! He is not a society butterfly! He is a poet, a 
philosopher, a scientist! one of the giants who build the world's future! 

BLANCHE, (impatiently,) Oh, you're a "Papa worshipper!" You 
are just like him! 

CLAU, I thank heaven if I am! That is the highest compliment 
you can pay me. Mother! 

BLANCHE. He is a very excellent man, my dear; but very poor 
company! 

CLAU. How can you say that, knowing his great, noble heart? 

NEL, Claw, you hardly ever go to parties. Why don't you? 

CLAU. I don't care to. 

BLANCHE. No! She has her father's blood in her veins! She is 
content with her fiance and this hum-drum, every-day, home life! 

CLAU. I am glad it is so. Mother! 

BLANCHE. When you are once married, my child, you will soon 
learn how montonous it all is! Your husband will tire you and you 
will seek relaxation in Society. 

CLALT. No, Mother! I shall never tire of the love and devotion of 



a kind husband! It is worth more than all the hollow frivolity of society 
a thousand times! I shall always be a good, true, honest and faithful 
nrife to Frank; and he and Father will always be my world! 

BLANCHE, (rising and putting on gloves.) Nonsense! You should 
have been a Puritan or a Quakeress! I must be going. If Mr. Jones 
calls, tell him I'll soon be back. We are going to the Martins' this 
afternoon, (exits D. R. 2.) (CLAU. looks after her and sighs.) 

CLiAU. Poor Father! Her coldness and neglect are breaking his 
heart! (drops in chair L. of table.) 

NEL. (hugs her.) Claw, you're a good fellow! You're the noblest 
girl-chap in the world! If I was a boy, I'd marry you whether you 
wanted me to or not, if I had to steal you and run away with you! 

CLAU. (takes Nel's face between her hands.) And you, Nellie, are 
the dearest, brightest, merriest, most warm-hearted little fairy in the 
world! (kisses her.) 

NEL. She said you were just like j'our father! Wasn't that nice? 

CLAU. (fervently.) Yes, dear, it is nice! (Frank enters D. L. F. 
coming on down L. of Nel. noiselessly, to surprise CLAU.) 

NEL. (with enthusiasm.) And he's the dearest, sweetest, goodest 
Uncle John in the world! I'd just love to give him a hug this minute! 
(she hugs in pantomime, and, in doing so, she clasps Frank, who is 
just about to cross in front of her.) Oh! Excuse me! (JUDGE enters 
D. L. F. sees it.) 

JUDGE. Hello! Hello! What's this? Left Tackle? 

FRANK, (laughing.) No Judge! Center Rush! Ha, ha, ha! (to 
Clau.) Good morning, Claudie! 

CLAU. (rises and gives both hands.) Frank! 

NEL. Frank, you mustn't say anything about Center Rush! It 
riles Daddy! Don't stir up the animals! 

JUDGE. Animals? Bumpii! I suppose I'm the hypopotamus at 
the Bronx! 

NEL. No, Daddy. You're too thin skinned! 

FRANK. (R. C. L. of CLAU.) Why, what's the trouble about Centre 
Rush? 

NEL. (puts hand over his mouth.) Don't! You excite Daddy's 
peculiar form of mania! 

JUDGE. Oh! I'm a lunatic in a straight- jacket now, am I? See 
here. Kid, you're just spoiling for a good licking! 

NEL. I know it. Daddy! Why don't you give me one? You know 
you can't when I'm married to Charlie! 

JUDGE, (mad.) Charlie be — ding-swizzled! If I stay here, I'll lose 
my temper! I'll go and smoke! (exits D. L. 3.) 

NEL, (laughing.) Out goes Daddy again in fire and smoke, like 
a sky-rocket! Ha, ha, ha! 

FRANK, (laughing.) You little rascal! If I was your Dad, I'd 
switch you! 

NEL. (chucks him under chin.) No you wouldn't! I'd just twist 
j^ou round my finger, as I do Dad! 

CLAU. But I would, if 1 were your father! 

NEL. But you're not my Daddy, see? (looks at them.) Oh! Ah! I 
beg pardon! I'm in the way! 

CLAU. Don't talk nonsense, Nellie! 



NEL. Oh, I know when I'm not wanted! I may look foolish in the 
face, but I'm not! Claw, don't you want me to go look for your hand- 
kerchief? 

CLAU. Nellie! Behave! 

NEL. Or your galoshes, or j^our false hair or your false teeth? Ha, 
Ha, Ha! 

FRANK, (back of CLAU.'s chair C. shakes fist at Nel.) Oh, Youns- 
ter! If you were only a boy! 

NEL. (snaps fingers at him.) But I'm not! See? Run along and 
play, little girl! (going L.) Heigh-ho! Love is an awful disease when 
it gets chronic; and these two patients have it awful bad! This is 
the incurable ward and they're the worst in it! 

FRANK. You— git— out! 

NEL. (mimicking him.) I'm git~out-ing! (exits D. L. 3. Laughing.) 

CLAU. (laughing.) The dear little tease! 

.FRANK. Oh, she's a good little chap! (kisses Clau.) How is my 
little sweetheart today? 

CLAU. (rises, at his L. side, head on his breast.) Always happy, 
Frank, when you are near! You know that, dear, don't you? 

FRANK. Yes, darling! and your dear face laid next my heart, 
drives out the trouble and care and makes me forget it all! 

CLAU. Frank, dear, there is something troubling you now. 

FRANK. Nonsense, Claudia! What makes you think that? 

CLAU. I can see it! I know it, Frank! When you're in trouble, 
my heart feels it. It is woman's subtle sympathy, — her living in- 
tuition. Won't you tell me? 

FRANK. O Claudia! Why should I worry you with it, dear? 

CLAU. Frank, haven't we promised to share our joys and sorrows 
together? Your trouble is my trouble. "They twain shall be one!" 
Tell me! 

FRANK. Little woman, I hate to do it! But you must know it sooner 
or later! It will change all our plans so; darling! 

CLAU. (alarmed.) Frank! What do you mean? 

FRANK. Claudie, you know my father left me eighty thousand dol- 
lars. A small fortune. It was to have given us our start in life. 

CLAU. Yes. I know. 

FRANK, (bitterly.) The last cent is gone! 

CLAU. (astonished.) Gone? 

FRANK. Yes, gone. You know what that means! I must build my 
fortune all over again! It means our wedding will have to be post- 
poned heaven only knows how long! That is, Claudia, if you are willing 
to wait for a poor man! 

CLAU. (puts hands on his shoulders.) Yes, Frank, I'll wait! 

FRANK, (seizes her in his arms.) God bless you, my darling! You 
have given me new courage! You have made me a man again! 

CLAU. (smiles hopefully.) But Frank dear, we don't have to wait. 
I have enough for us both. 

FRANK, (holds her at arms' length.) You noble little woman! Do 
you think, after losing my fortune, I'd marry you and live on yours? 
Why, Claudie, such a fellow wouldn't be worthy to look at a woman 
like you, much less to call her his wife! 



10 



CLAU. You would have shared yours with me; let me share min^ 
with you, dear! 

FRANK. I would feel that I wasn't a man, — that I wasn't worthy of 
you, Claudia! I would lose my self-respect. I could never look you 
in the face again! No! I'll fight the battle, like a man, and win back 
what I have lost! 

CLAU. (proudly.) And I'll wait for you, dear! 

FRANK. Bless you, little woman! Your love will give me strength 
and courage! 

CLAU. (leads him to chair C, kneels by his side.) How did it hap- 
pen, Frank? 

FRANK. Father was Edward Jones' friend. He gave him his start 
in life, and made him. Jones entered Wall Street, and speculated and 
became rich. When Father died, he asked him to be my adviser in the 
investment of the money. I, of course, trusted him, for he owed all 
to my Father. Jones advised me to buy Midas Mining Stock. I invested 
all my fortune. I bought up all the stock. Later I learned it was he, 
had owned this stock, and unloaded it on me and that it was worth- 
less! 

CLAU. (standing C.) What? Edward Jones? The traitor to his 
benefactor! Is there no way to make him pay it back? 

FRANK. No! I was fleeced and plundered legally! I have no re- 
course! At first, in my rage, I wanted to kill him. Then came the 
thought of you! That restrained me! Out West, they lynch a thief 
who steals a horse; but here, a thief on the street can rob you of a 
fortune, and if you kill him, the law brands you as a criminal! I had 
lost my fortune, — I could bear that; but I could not lose you and my 
place among men! 

CLAU. (with arm on his shoulder.) You were right! I'll help you 
and together, we'll build a new fortune, Frank. 

FRANK, (with arm around her.) You dear, brave little girl! 

NEL. (in door L. C. with hands over her eyes.) "One — Two — 
Three — Four! I ain't goin' to count no more!" Can I come in? Say! 
That Mr. Jones is coming! Claw, I hate him! He thinks he's the 
highest peach on the tree! 

FRANK, (to Clau.) I'll come back this evening, and in the mean 
time, I'll have a talk with the Judge. Good bye! (NEL. turns her 
back to them.) 

CLAU. Good bye, dear, till tonight. For my sake, don't quarrel 
with Jones. 

FRANK. I won't, dear. Good bye! (kisses her. Nel. puts handa 
over ears.) (Frank exits D. R. 2.) 

NEL. (back to them.) Good bye! Oh, don't mind me! I'm look- 
ing out of the window! (turns.) Hello! He's gone! It's awful to 
be in love, isn't it Claw? (Clau. goes to fireplace, leans on mantle, at 
up stage end.) But I think it's lots of fun! It keeps Daddy busy! 
Say! Did you ever see a dog that had fleas? Well, that's the way 
Dad's been ever since I first sprung Charlie on him! (sees Clau. 
thoughtful.) Say, Claw! You're as glum as an owl! What's the 
matter? 

CLAU. Nothing, dear! I was thinking. I'm just moody, that's all. 

NEL. (sees list on table.) Why Aunt Blanche forgot Mr. Jones' 

11 



list of the Charity Bazaar, (looks off L. 3 D.) Hello! Dear old Dad 
has cooled off and is coming- back for more, (up C.) 

JUDGE, (enters D. L. 3., with newspaper.) (to Nel.) Hello, you 
rascal! Here yet, are you? (sits L. of table, reading-.) 

NEL, (L. C. Clau. goes up to D. L. C.) Yes, Daddy, I'm waiting 
for you! 

JUDGE. What's that? (reads.) 

NEL. (on knees between his knees, tucks head up between him 
and his paper.) Daddj^ does 'oo love 'oo baby? 

JUDGE. You little scamp! Of course I do! 

NEL. And 'oo'll give 'oo little Nellie her nice, big Centre Rush? 

JUDGE, (smashes paper down over her head like a ruffled collar.) 
I'll give j^ou a trouncing! 

NEL. (turns, between his knees, facing audience.) That's it! A 
woman's heart crushed by the Power of the Press! 

JUDGE. Dynamite wouldn't crush you! 

NEL. Not dynamite; but Charlie might! (hugs herself.) 

JUDGE. Charlie be . 

NEL. (puts her hand over his mouth.) O Daddy! Something aw- 
ful's g-oing to happen to you! 

JUDGE. Well, it won't be a confounded Vermont yap football play- 
er son-in-law I 

NEL. (demurely.) My Ma married a football player. 

JUDGE. Well, By Jingo! He wasn't a yap! 

NEL. This to me! And I about to become his bride! 

JUDGE, (up L. C. Clau. gradually down R.) Bosh! Bride! Bah! 
You're only a kid! 

NEL. (mimics goats.) "Bah!" (high.) The Kid! "Bah!" (lower.) 
The Kid's Pa-pa, Mr. V/illiam Goat! (she laughs. He sits in chair 
by fireplace with what is left of the paper not torn.) (she leans on 
back of his chair.) Friend Daddy! 

JUDGE, (gruffly, reading.) What! 

NEL. Don't you wish you had ten daughters, all like me? 

JUDGE. By the Lord Harry, no! One's a dose! I'd rather herd 
ten jackrabbits in an open prairie! 

NEL. Oh, it isn't so bad to have a darling, sweet little daughter, 
like nie! 

JUDGE. Humph 1 It wouldn't be if damn fools weren't so plenty! 

NEL, (puts hands over her ears.) O — Pa — pa! ! Awful! ! ! 

JUDGE. Well, you made me say it! 

NEL. That's the way Grandpa Adam talked about the apples! 

JONES, (enters D. L. F. from L.) Good morning, all! 

JUDGE. Good morning! Good morning! 

JONES, (crosses toward L. by table.) Good morning. Miss Claudia. 
(she bows coldly.) Is Mrs. AUston at home? 

CLAU. No, Sir. 

NEL. (back of Judge's chair.) She's at Mrs. Van Zant's. She said, 
if you called, to tell you she'd soon be back. 

JONES, (looks at watch.) Oh, very well. I can wait a little while. 
I must be at the Board of Trade in half an hour. 

JUDGE. I hear you have sold the Midas Mining property. (Clau. 
starts.) 

12 



JONES, (smiling.) Yes. I was fortunate to get it off my hands 
at last. The mine was a failure. 

JUDGE. Humph! What did you get for it? 

JONES, (pleased, chuckles.) Eighty thousand dollars! The foolish 
lambs walk up to be sheared! 

CLAU. (Indignantly.) The lamb you fleeced by that swindle, Mr. 
Jones, was the son of your benefactor, — the man whose kindness made 
you! 

JUDGE. Eh? What's that? 

JONES, (annoyed.) If a young fool will plunge in stock, he must 
take his chances I 

CLAU. He took no chances! He had no chance! He trusted the 
man who owed all to the father, and whom both gratitude and honor 
should have prompted to deal, at least, fairly! Judas-like you betrayed 
that trust and robbed the son of the last cent! 

JONES, (angrily.) Nonsense! What do women know of deals 
on the Street? 

CLAU. I know all about this one! The victim you robbed was 
the man who will be my husband! 

JUDGE, (springs up.) What? Frank? 

CLAU. Yes! Frank! This man, his father's trusted agent, stole 
his patrimony! 

JONES. Stole! — Ha, ha, ha! I can excuse the insult. Miss Allston, 
You women know nothing about business. 

JUDGE, (warmly.) But I do. Sir! You call that business? I call 
It robbery! 

JONES, (menacingly.) Judge Wilcutt, that term is actionable! 

JUDGE. Bring action, Sir! And I'll show you up to your fine 
society friends as a scoundrel and a swindler! You took that boy's 
money and what you gave him in return was about as much as the 
stock of a Christian Science Drug Store! If all you robbers in Wall 
Street were hanged, it would be about as lonesome down there as 
the Wholesale District on Sunday. Wall Street ought to be wiped 
off the map! It's a disgrace and menace to the American people! 

JONES, (hotly.) You talk like a fool! It is the market that 
establishes values and National finances. 

JUDGE. Bosh! You fellows establish nothing! You get rich by 
dealing in false values, — by selling things you haven't got, — things 
that don't exist! You are a lot of "Gold brick" and "Bunco" steerers 
on a large scale! 

JONES. Rot! The Street has made this the richest nation on the 
Globe! 

JUDGE. The Dickens it has! You fellows make nothing rich but 
yourselves, and everybody poor-er who gets in your clutches! You 
are plunderers of the innocent! It is the honest financiers and manu- 
facturers who enrich a country. They give us full value for what 
they get from us. You fellows give nothing in return. You rob the 
nation and the citizen! Ninety per cent of you ought to be in Sing 
Sing! 

JONES, (sneeringly.) Why don't you send us there? 

JUDGE. I wish I could; but the present brainless laws 

JONES, (with contempt.) Why not appeal to "Judge Lynch?" 

13 



JUDGE. He'd be a good Judge for Wall Street. He hangs petty 
thieves and hold-up men, out West. If he'd handle big thieves on the 
Board of Trade in the same way, it would clear the atmosphere! 

JONES. You're an anarchist! 

JUDGE. No! I'd avoid anarchy! It is such rascals as you who will 
bring it on us some day! 

JONES, (laughs scornfully.) You're a Judge. Why don't you stop 
it? 

JUDGE. Give me an efficient law and I will! I'll make you scoun- 
drels dance on nothing but atmosphere! I'd hang you as high as Hay- 
man! 

JONES, (insultingly.) You presume on your advantage, Sir! Your 
gray hairs protect you. 

JUDGE, (threateningly.) Don't you mind my gray hairs! They 
can take care of themselves! I don't hide behind them, so don't you 
hide behind that coward's excuse, you puppy! 

NEL. (between them.) Daddy! 

JONES, (pointedly.) Judge Wilcutt, I have borne about all I can, 
even in the presence of ladies! I will take up this matter with you 
elsewhere and in earnest. 

JUDGE. Any time you like, Sir! Legally or in any other way 
you choose. ^ 

BLANCHE, (enters D. R. 3,) Well, I'm back! (sees faces.) Why, 
what's the matter here? (by table L. of Claudia.) 

JONES, (advancing toward her.) Oh, nothing of any Importance, 
Mrs. Allston! Good morning! (shakes hands and smuggles letter to 
her.) 

NEL. No, Aunt Blanche, it was about nothing at all! We were 
talking of his honor and honesty! 

BLANCHE, (alarmed, — to Jones.) Why, what does this mean? 

JONES, (aside to her.) I'll explain later. I'll come back by and 
by. (aloud.) Good morning! (going up, Blanche about to follow, 
when Judge follows him up to C. She stops.) 

JUDGE, (up in D. L. F.) Don't forget to resume this subject, 
Sir, whenever and however you like! 

JONES, (turns in door, pointedly.) I shall not forget, Judge Wil- 
cutt! (exits D. L. F. and off L.) 

BLANCHE, (pale and excited.) Claudia! Judge! What does this 
mean? 

CLAU. (R. — with spirit.) It means, Mother, that that man has 
robbed Frank of his entire fortune! 

BLANCHE. Robbed? 

CLAU. That is what I said. Mother! Robbed! 

BLANCHE. Claudia! 

JUDGE, (up C.) Yes! The scoundrel gloated over his plunder and 
got his record read! 

BLANCHE. -You forget. Judge, he is a friend of mine! 

JUDGE. Your friend? — After that crime? — You're welcome to his 
friendship, Blanche! By the Eternal, he's my enemy! (exits with Nel. 
D. L. 3.) 

BLANCHE. Claudia, I am surprised, — shocked that you should in- 
sult my guest, my friend, in my house! 

14 



CLAU. Mother, the man, who can rob the son of his benefactor, 
and his victim the future husband of your child, is unworthy to be 
a guest beneath my father's roof or to be called the friend of my 
Mother! 

BLANCHE. What do you mean, Claudia Allston? 

CLAU. (by D. R. 2 turns.) I mean that I have my father's ideals 
of honor. I hope yours are not different! (exits D. R. 2.) 

BLANCHE, (front of table, cold with fear.) Claudia! Oh, this is 
killing me! This struggle; It's hopes, its constant danger, — the re- 
morse, — yes, remorse! I simply can't resist! I am caught in the 
whirl-pool and cannot battle with the current! My love for this man 
has overpowered everything else! This struggle tears my very soul! 
I look with fear and suspicion on my own child, dreading lest her 
woman's intuition may read her mother's guilty secret! I dare not 
meet the honest, loving eyes of my husband, the honorable man t^o 
was my girlhood's love, who gave me my social position, that I have 
abused to dishonor him, to blight his life, to break his heart, and to 
bring shame upon my home and banish my name forever from the 
lips and heart of my child! — Yet, when he comes near me, my pulses 
leap, my heart yearns for him, I hunger for his kisses, his caresses, 
his embrace! I forget all, — all, save that I worship him! I am his 
helpless slave and must do his bidding! Where will it end? Where 
will it end? — (looks at note.) His note! (sits gazing at it a moment, 
then presses it to her lips.) (reads.) "Blanche darling, make no en- 
gagement for tomorrow afternoon. Meet me, at the old place, at three. 
Have patience! We will soon be far away from all this danger, where 
we need not hide our love! Get those papers, Blanche. I have lost 
heavily lately. They will make us rich when we are safe and far 
away. Don't forget, Three O'Clock, at the dear old place, for a couple 
of hours of love and happiness, away from prying eyes! Yours, body 
and soul, Ed." (sits thinking.) I'll go! Of course I'll go! I am 
helpless! Oh, why deceive myself? I do not want to resist! I shall 
count the moments till then! 

JUDGE, (enters D. L. F. coming down R. of table, during his 
speech.) (she starts at sound of his voice, thrusts letter, as she thinks, 
into her purse, but it falls on floor R, unnoticed by her. She sinks in 
ehair.) Blanche, I beg your pardon if I have offended you through 
your guest. I am a peculiar old fellow, with rigid ideas of honor and 
honesty. Forget an old friend's bluntness, Blanche, if I have hurt 
you. (He sees the note and picks it up, unobserved, and lays it on 
other papers, on table, accidentally overturning contents of bottle 
on papers, not seeing it.) 

BLANCHE, (smiles wearily.) It is forgotten already! (with sup- 
pressed emotion.) I have constantly to pray: "Forgive me my tres- 
passes as I forgive those who trespass against me!" 

JUDGE. Nonsense, Blanche! You trespass against nothing but 
the laws of health, and by leaving the grandest man in the world 
without the sunshine of your society, (she rises, front of table, at 
sound of John's voice, as if about to leave the room.) 

JOHN, (enters with papers, D. L. 3.) Hello, Charlie! 

JUDGE. (R. of table.) Hello yourself, you old dray-horse! 

JOHN, (tenderly.) Blanche, it is good to see you, if only oc- 

15 



casionally. Society claims you most of the time, dear! (about to 
take her hands and kiss her.) 

'BLANCHE, (avoiding him.) Oh, don't, John! Don't let us bill 
and coo, like a country couple! 

JOHN, (half aside.) Would to Heaven we were! 

JUDGE, (up R. sees it.) Poor fellow! (she misses note from purse, 
looks around cautiously and anxiously, unnoticed.) 

JOHN, (sinks in chair L. of table.) Oh, I am tired, — tired! 

JUDGE. Well, you stubborn old rascal, you will work like a pack- 
horse! Why don't you rest? You are killing yourself! 

JOHN, (shows papers.) Well, Charlie, I can rest now! I have 
finished my great work! After years of study and experiment, I have 
perfected my great Nitrate Formula. A discovery that will redeem 
the worn-out lands of the world! It will "Make the desert to blos- 
som as the roses!" See! Here it is! A secret worth a king's ransom! 
(shows it.) (Blanche starts and looks eager and troubled.) 

JUDGE, (gleefully.) Good boy! I knew you'd do it! Hooray! 
It's worth millions! 

JOHN, (rises, crosses, behind table, to cabinet R. 3.) Yes. Millions! 
I'll just put it in the cabinet for safe keeping, for the present. 

JUDGE, (while crossing to fireplace.) John, it is too valuable. It 
should be in a safer place. (Blanche is looking for note.) 

JOHN, (turning to Judge.) Perhaps you are right. (sees bottle 
overturned.) Blanche! Look out! Don't let your dress touch the 
table! It will take the color out! See! This bottle has upset on 
these papers. It is a perfect bleaching fluid. It has effaced the writ- 
ing on all these notes, (examines.) Yes. Every letter is gone. They 
are blank papers once more. 

BLANCHE, (aside, relieved.) Safe! (aloud.) I am sorry if I upset 
it and spoiled your notes. 

JOHN. Oh, you didn't do it, my dear! Doubtless I did it myself. 
This rubbish shouldn't have been here, anyway. It belongs in the 
laboratory; but I scatter things all over the house. There is no 
damage done, though, my Darling! (she winces at the word.) 

BLANCHE, (crosses him. to R.) Well, I am glad it is no worse. 
Excuse me! 

JOHN, (follows her to door.) If you wish, my dear. I am sorry 
to lose you, though. I seem to see so little of you now-a-days, Blanche, 
and the sight of you brings happiness with it, dear! 

BLANCHE, (bows, smiling wearily.) How very complimentary! 
Thanks! (exit D. R. 2. John looks after her and sighs.) 

JOHN, (to himself, with emotion.) Blanche! My wife! O God! 
You are drifting away from me! 

JUDGE, (seated by fireplace.) John, all your experimenting, of 
late, seems to be on agricultural chemistry. Why? 

JOHN. It is the largest and most* promising field of research. The 
land and its products are the wealth of America. 
. JUDGE. Yes, I believe you are right. 

JOHN. Of course I am! Now here's another discovery that will be 

a blessing out West. You know I have made a deep study of poisons 
and their antidotes. 

JUDGE. Yes. I know. 

18 



JOHN. Well, here, for instance, is a deadly poison, — taken from the 
Upas trees of India. If I were contemplating suicide, I should prefer 
it. It is sure and merciful, as it is almost painless. It has no known 
antidote. For five years I have experimented, till I have discovered a 
perfect one. This! (sets down another phial.) This little phial con- 
tains all of the antidote there is in existence. This led me to consider 
another' vegetable poison — that has been the curse of the Western cattle 
ranges, — a little blueish-green weed called "Loco." The cattle eat it, 
soon they stagger, as if drunk. Gradually the symptoms grow worse. 
The poor brutes go mad and run wildly on and on, till they fall and 
die. I studied the poison. I made an extract of it. Here! (puts an- 
other bottle on table.) It would be a dangerous poison for the public 
to know! 

JUDGE. Ail poisons are dangerous in the hands of ignorance. Why 
this more than another? 

JOHN. This would be dangerous in the hands of the criminal. He 
could poison his victims slowly, watch him sicken, madden and die, 
as if from some strange, new disease, leaving no trace of poison to 
be found in the body. It would be next to impossible to detect the 
murderer. But, to return. I have sought a remedy, an antidote that 
could be used to save the cattle that had eaten "Loco." I have found 
it! This! (shows phial.) One tablet of this would save the victim, 
even in advanced stages. It neutralizes the poison perfectly. 

JUDGE. John, you'd better not leave those poisons there. (sees 
papers.) Did those papers contain valuable formulas? 

JOHN. Yes. Several. 

JUDGE. What a pity! They are totally erased by that chemical. 
Can you reproduce them? 

JOHN. I can do better than that. With another chemical I can 
restore all the writing. 

JUDGE, (looks at his watch.) By Jingo! I must go over to my 
office. John! I am worried about that valuable Nitrate Formula. 
Put it where it will be safe, and patent it as quickly as you can. Then 
it can't be stolen. 

JOHN, (rises and crosses to cabinet.) You're right, Charlie! Here! 
(gives it to him.) Take it to your safe and secure the patent for me 
at once, in Claudia's name. I want it to be her property. 

JUDGE, (takes papers.) That's right, John. But you've left the 
other part there, (points to papers in cabinet.) 

JOHN. That is only the first working draft. (going up and out 
with Judge.) It is worthless. It contains nothing of the discovery. 
The principal elements I discovered long after — (exits talking. — Pause.) 

BLANCHE, (with carnations on, re-enters anxiously.) The room 
empty? Thank Heaven! I must find that note! (searches papers on 
table.) Ah! This is it! I know Ed.'s paper, his monogram. Good! 
(crumples it up and throws it in fire. Turns, eye falls on cabinet.) 
The Formula! Ed. told me to get it! Oh, I can't! It seems like rob- 
bing John and my child! And yet I must! He has lost heavily. He 
says he must have it! Perhaps our very happiness, our future to- 
gether, hangs on it! Oh, I must! I must! (stops.) Why do I hesi- 
tate? Am I not robbing them of more, much more, when I fly with 
him? Ed! I could not do this but for your dear sake! (gets old 

17 



formula from cabinet. — (reads.) "Nitrates." Yes! This is it! (hides 
it in dress, goes to door R. 2.) God forgive me! (exit.) 

JOHN, (enters D. L. 3. with large bottle of liquid and chemical 
bath-dish. To table and sets them down.) The perfume of carna- 
tions! Her flower! She has left the sweetness of her presence with 
me! (sinks in chair L. of table.) O Blanche, my darling! My boy- 
hood's sweetheart, the wife of my young manhood, the mother of my 
child! You are drifting out of mj^ arms! I found you a sweet country 
girl amid the Berkshire hills, — a beautiful child of Nature! My old 
family name and station, our growing wealth, opened to your fresh, 
young beauty the doors of the inner social circle. You have tasted 
the nectar of the Social Olympus and it has driven you mad! You 
live, now, for Society alone, and I, and your child are but as half 
forgotten incidents. We have no longer a place in your heart! (head 
sinks on breast.) 

CLAU. (enters D. R. 2.) Father! 

JOHN, (rises, opening his arms to her.) Claudie dear! (she comes 
to him.) 

CLAU. They told me you were here, Father! I had not seen you 
this morning, (kisses him tenderly.) 

JOHN. (sits. She at his feet. He strokes her hair.) My little girl! 
You don't know how your love wakens the voice of Spring, the call 
of blossom and of bird-song, in my heart! 

CLAU. (lays her head against his shoulder.) Father darling, you 
ought not to have been a chemist. You are a born poet! 

JOHN, (smiling.) Love makes all men poets, my girl; and what 
sweeter love than that between parent and child? (sighs.) It's about 
all I have now, dear! 

CLAU. (puts arms around him.) I know, poor, dear Father! 

JOHN, (tenderly.) How well we understand and sympathize with 
each other, my girl! 

CLAU. (her cheek against his.) Never mind, dear! My love shall 
comfort and cheer you, till some day Mother will realize that the true 
hearts at home are worth more than all the false glitter of the gay 
world! 

NEL. (runs on L. 3. Clau. rises.) Hello, Claw! Where's Daddy? 
Oh, good morning, Uncle John, (hugs and kisses him.) I hugged an- 
other man, this morning, by mistake, for you! 

JOHN, (smiling.) Who was the lucky fellow, Little Sunshine? 

NEL. (mischievously.) Ask Claw! I'd tell you "Frankly," but 
she's jealous as it is! (they laugh.) Come on. Claw! I want you! 
Good bye, Uncle John! (crosses L.) 

JOHN, (brightened up.) Good bye, children, (they exit D. L. 3.) 
She's a little dancing sunbeam! She spreads brightness wherever she 
passes. Now to re-develop the writing on my notes, (puts paper in 
bath.) This will speedily undo the mischief. Yes. The color is coming 
back, (reads.) Formula No, 783. Chlorine gas — um! — um! — Sulphate 
of Copper, Bismuth, — Yes. It's all there, (picks up another.) Formula 
435. Fero-cyonide of iron, Nitric Acid, — Good! (another.) Formula 
642. All right, (picks up letter.) What'a this? A letter. (reads.) 
"Blanche darling!" — What! — Jones' writing! — Blanche DARLING! — 
Make no engagement for tomorrow afternoon." — I dare not read it! — 

18 



"Blanche DARLING!" — Great God! I must,— I will know! — "Meet me 
at the old place, at Three." — The old place? Ha! — "Have patience, 
Sweet," — O God — "We will soon be far away from all this danger, 
where we need not hide our love!" What! Elope? O Blanche! My 
wife! — "Get those papers, — lost heavily, — make us rich when we are 
safe and far away!" — I can't see! The tears blind me! — "Don't forget, 
Three O'Clock, at the dear old place for a couple of hours of love and 
happiness, away from prying eyes." — Blanche! Blanche! "Yours body 
and soul, Ed." — Ha! (he crushes paper in hand.) I'll kill him! — 
Blanche! My wife! Have I gone mad? Is it a horrid night-mare? 

God! If I am dreaming, in mercy waken me! (spreads out letter.) 
No! It is there! It is true, — all true! O God! How blind I have 
been! (rises.) And she could come to me, to her pure child, from his 
arm, — with the poison of his lustful kisses on her guilty lips! Blanche! 
Blanche! (looks at letter.) Edward Jones, you shall keep the tryste 
tomorrow, but it will be with Death! 

NEL. (enters L. 3. laughing and dragging Clau. He sinks in chair, 
hides note in his breast, hiding his feelings. Nel. runs in behind him, 
arms around his neck.) O Uncle John! Such fun! I put Japanese 
snuff on Da^Jdy's handkerchief! He'll have to adjourn court, this 
morning, while he sneezes! Ha, ha, ha! And Claw scolded me! She 
called me a naughty little wretch! Ha, ha, ha! 

CLAU. (L. of John.) Well, you are, Nellie, to play a trick like that 
on your dear, good Father! 

NEL. Well, Dad isn't like Uncle John. Ha, ha, ha! Imagine him 
trying to look dignified and sneezing like a donkey-engine at the same 
time! Ha, ha, ha! 

CLAU. (sees John's haggard face.) Father! What is the matter? 
(falls on knees at his feet. Nel. at his L. side, sobered.) Are you 
ill? 

JOHN. No, Dear! Just tired, — worn out, that's all, Claudie! (kisses 
her.) 

CLAU. Why, you look so white and haggard! You're not well! 

1 know it! 

JOHN. It's nothing! It's just over-work, Darling! Leave me and 
I'll take a sleep, (they cross to R.) 

CLAU. (turns to him.) I hate to leave you, looking so. Father! 

JOHN, (with nervous, forced laugh, rising.) Ha, ha, ha! Nonsense! 
It's nothing, children! A little tired, that's all! There! Run along! 
I'll finish my work and then I'll sleep! (they exit D. R. 2.) My God! 
Will I ever sleep again? (sinks in chair.) Blanche, Blanche! — By 
God! I'll kill him! (hand touches "Loco" phial) "Loco!" — (laughs.) 
It kills slowly, — surely! I'll watch him struggle with the insidiuos drug 
and die like the stricken steer! This subtle poison working in his 
veins, he cannot meet her tomorrow! It leaves no trace! I can hide 
her sin and my wound from my child and the world; but he DIES! 
Ha! The wine! Yes! (picks up "Loco.") The Poison! (look at 
phial on table.) The antidote. I will need it. It Is not murder; it 
is Justice! The wolf breaks into the fold and the shepherd kills him! 
(goes to cabinet, puts poison in wine, with his back toward D. L. F. 
screen hides him. Meanwhile Jones comes on C. from L. Blanche meets 
him, kiss hurriedly and slips formula to him.) 

19 



JOHN, (coming down to table.) There! It is done! (they hear, 
look around and Blanche darts back R. out of sight. John sets decanter 
and glasses on table, turns, sees Jones, starts, turns front, face awful.) 
Here! (turns.) Ha! Jones! How are you, old man? 

JONES, (advancing L. of him.) Ah, John! Oh, I'm well, Thanks! 
But you! You look awful, man! Are you ill? 

JOHN, (convivially.) Pshaw! It's nothing! Over-work, that's all! 
I think too much! I'm "Locoed," as they say out West! That is my 
"Loco" antidote! Ha, ha, ha! (takes tablet and puts phial in pocket.) 
A glass of wine and I'll be all right! (bus.) You shall join me! Come! 
(fills glasses.) May your hopes and loves be like this wine to your 
lips! (They drink.) 

JONES. Thanks! That's a fine wine. Strong, rich and a peculiar 
flavor. 

JOHN, (watches him eagerly.) Yes! A strong wine! It is a 
rare vintage from the French Pyrrennes. It is called Sangre d' Amour! 
The Blood of Love! 

JONES, (presses hand over forehead.) What a strange name! 

JOHN, (wild and exultant.) Yes, man! and a strange wine! It 
courses through the veins like fire, — like the mad passion that its 
name suggests! It makes the pulses leap, the brain have strong fan- 
cies, — see lovely visions! Oh, it is the wine of joyous madness! 

JONES, (steadies himself against table.) My God! I believe you! 
It has gone to my head already! It is the strongest liquor I ever drank! 

JOHN, (wildly.) Pshaw, man! You drank but a little! Have an- 
other glass! 

JONES, (staggers. — pause — hands over eyes.) No! No! I am dizzy 
now! Something is wrong with me! The wine! I am dazed! The 
wine! It runs through my veins like Are! 

JOHN, (laughs wildly.) Nonsense! You are not in the Middle 
Ages! but in the Twentieth Century civilization! This is New York; 
not the Palace of the Borgias! Ha, ha, ha! 

JONES, (staggers, groping for door.) I am sick! I must get home 
while I can! The wine! — My auto is outside. I'll — Ah, God! What's 
the matter with me! (exits blindly D. L. F. and off L.) 

JOHN. (C. laughs wildly, hysterically, madly.) Ha, ha, ha! This 
is Society Civilization! — Damn Civilization! It has robbed me, a sav- 
age, and I have paid it back! Ha, ha, ha! It is the old law of the wilds, 
the story of the desert and the jungle! The Lions and the Lioness! 
The battle to the death! Ha, ha, ha! (falls fainting on table, rolls to 
the floor.) CURTAIN. 

Or, he can hold position on table and on second picture, be discovered 
on floor. 



ACT 2. 

ACT II. Same set as ACT I., with the screen brought down so as 
to be just above and to L. of the D. R. 2. FRANK seated on R. arm 
of Chair L; CLAU. stands R. of him. 

FRANK. And so, with push and energy, I am in a fair way to build 
up a fortune. I get a commission on every acre sold. 



20 



CLAU. But what is this Land Company? 

FRANK. It's a square deal to everybody! No misrepresentation. 
I know I am giving value received and I'll re-build my fortune on the 
square deal or not at all! 

CLAU. (proudly.) Frank, you're a Man! (he rises, facing her, arms 
on each-other's shoulders.) 

FRANK. I hope so! I'll build a nice home nest for you yet my 
little mate; and I won't build it out of others' ruined hopes and broken 
hearts. If I get rich, I don't mean to have to pay hush-money to my 
conscience nor gag ugly gossip by having to give my ill-gotten money 
away in ostentatious charity, like paying a penance. It won't be bribing 
God's verdict with Devil's gold! 

CLAU. Frank! My Frank! My Man! (Nel. creeps in from D. L. 
3., unseen, behind them.) 

FRANK. You bet! 

NEL. (tucks her head in between them, under their arms.) Hello! 

FRANK. Hello you! 

NEL. "What Heaven hath joined together, let no man" — nor woman 
either — "put asunder!" The Preacher forgets that part of it though; 
and it's the most important! 

CLAU. (pats her head.) Little Curly-head! Our little Good Fairy! 

NEL. (arms around each.) I'll be your Fairy-God-Mother! What 
does the good fairy always say? "May you have health, wealth and a 
large family!" 

CLAU. (confused.) Nell! (goes C.) 

FRANK, (puts his hand over her mouth.) Silence! 

NEL. (between CLAU. and FRANK.) That's it! Extinguish your 
good fairy, when she's wishing you wealth and plenty! 

FRANK. The wealth's all right; but don't you be in a hurry about 
the plenty! 

NEL. Well, a little couple, a little fortune, a little cottage, just big 
enough for two! 

FRANK, (laughs.) That's better to start with! But, Nel, the cot- 
tage will always be big enough for three, 

CLAU. Or four, when you catch that big Centre Rush. 

NEL. Oh, I have got him hooked and in the landing net! 

FRANK. So, then, he's your property already! 

NEL. (demurely.) Well, I've got an option on him! We're en- 
gaged! (they laugh.) 

CLAU. (amused.) Nellie, you're an eternal April! 

NEL. Yes, but without the showers! No tears for me! (looks R.) 
See! Here comes Dad! Watch me frighten him! (She leans on chair, 
thoughtfully. They up C. Judge enters R. 2 with legal papers.) 

FRANK. Good morning. Judge! 

JUDGE. Ah! Good morning, Frank! my boy! (front of table. R. C.) 

CLAU. (goes to him and kisses him.) Good morning, Uncle Charlie! 

JUDGE, (chucks her under the chin.) God bless you, Claudie dear! 
(sighs.) John Allston's heart in petticoats! (Sees Nel.) Hello, you 
little scamp, you here? 

NEL. (meekly and sadly.) Yes, Father darling! Did you want me 
to go? 

21 



JUDGE, (sitting at table, witli papers, — surprise.) Why, no! Of 
course not! 

NEL. For, if you do, I'll go. I am your child and I owe you love and 
obedience. 

JUDGE, (frightened, jams papers in pocket.) "Obedience?" Obedi- 
ence — You? (he takes her face in his hands.) Are you sick, Nellie? 

NEL. No, Father. But I'll be a good daughter to you! Your will 
shall be my law! 

JUDGE, (much frightened.) Nellie! Let me feel your pulse! (bus.) 
Stick out your tongue! (bus.) Do you feel any pain, dear? 

NEL. (sighs.) No, father dearest! A little heart-ache, a little fond 
regret; but my duty is obedience! (sighs very loud.) 

JUDGE, (scared.) Nel! Now I know you're sick! I'll have a doctor 
quick! 

NEL. No, Father. I'm well enough! I'm better now! 

JUDGE. "My will your law?" 

NEL. (mischievously, looks up.) Yes, Daddy; but you must will 
what I want you to! 

JUDGE, (much relieved.) Hah! Nel! You monkey! You gave me 
such a scare! Kid! I was afraid my little girl was going to die! 
Don't you ever do that again! 

NEL. (laughs.) I won't, Dad! Say! I'm going to marry Charlie! 

JUDGE. The Devil you will! I'll have something to say about that! 

NEL. Yes, you must say: "God bless you my children!" (sits on 
floor, in front of him, back to him.) 

JUDGE, See here! If I hear anything more about that Yap, I'll 
send you to a Convent! 

NEL. Daddy, they'd discharge me in a week as incorrigible! 

JUDGE. Humph! I'll be hanged if I don't believe it! 

CLAU. (C. laughing.) Uncle Charlie, don't you believe her! Her 
football player is all a myth! 

NEL. Myth? No he isn't a myth, "Myth" Claudia! That's all a 
"mith"-take! 

FRANK. (L. C.) She told me, in confidence, she was going to be 
an old maid. 

JUDGE. No she won't! I've made other arrangements! 

NEL. So have I! 

CLAU. Uncle Charlie, she's a hum-bug! 

NEL. (makes face at them.) Humbugs yourselves! (rubs her head 
on Judge's breast.) Daddy dear, I love you harder than a Harlem goat 
can butt! (butts him.) 

JUDGE, O-oh" (pets her.) You're a dear little scamp, Nel, when 
you want to be! 

NEL. Sometimes! 

JUDGE. Sometimes? 

KEL. Yes, wbeii I want to be! 

JUDGE. Humph! That's not very often! 

NEL. Not very. Daddy! Say, Friend Papa! Did you ever see 
a big, good-natured dog come in and curl up to take "Comfy;" and 
a dear little kitten tease him till he'd get up and go out, disgusted 
and then come back and try it all over? 

JUDGE. Yes,— Why? 

22 



NEL. Oh, nothing-! 

JUDGE, (begins to see.) Eh? What? Why! Confound you! I 
suppose you're the dear little kitten? 

NEL. Yes, Daddy! 

JUDGE. And I'm the big, good-natured dog? 

NEL. Yes, Daddy! 

JUDGE. You ought to be walloped! 

NEL. Yes, Daddy! Say, Daddy! You make me more trouble! — 
Why don't you submit to my authority gracefully? (g^ets up, facing 
him, L. of him.) 

JUDGE. Your authority, you shrimp! I'll make you trouble! 

NEL. You'd be awful nice if you'd only behave! 

JUDGE, (getting warm.) Behave! Why, you fresh kid — 

NEL. Yes. You get mad and swell up, like a toad! 

JUDGE, (gets up angry.) Oh, now I'm a toad! I'll be jiggered if 
there's anything in Noah's ark that I haven't been or am likely to be! 
(cross L.) Say, you mosquito! If you think of any you've missed, 
just jot 'em down, will you? By Jingo! I want to be the whole in- 
fernal circus parade from the pink elephant to the hump-backed 
Jabberwock! Give us the whole works with the mahouts and the 
ani-mal trainers thrown in! I'll be the whole business! 

NEL. Yes, Daddy, and the brass band ahead! 

JUDGE. Now, by the Eternal! I'm a Dago-Dutch Band! 

NEL. No, Daddy! You're the camel. You've got your back up! 
Put your hands over your ears! Daddy's going to swear! 

JUDGE. Oh! I'm a dromedary with a mansard roof now! I'll 
be marching into the Ark, two by two, after the manner of my kind! 
If I don't get out of here, I'll lose my temper! By the jumping Jingo! 
(exits D. L. 3.) 

NEL. (calls after him.) Whoopee! Daddy! Grand Circus Pa- 
rade! "Free Puffawmance awn the grounds!" Grand Mardi-Gras 
procession! Rex in fountain of fireworks! Rah! Rah! Rah! Ha, 
ha, ha! Daddy '11 be trying to roar like a lion next! I'll go and quiet 
the animals, (exits after him, laughing.) (Frank and Clau. laughing.) 

CLAU. Poor Uncle Charlie! She's always teasing him. They are 
everything to each other, but that is their way of showing it. 

FRANK. I'm going to tell the Judge how to get even with her at 
her own game! (laughing.) (They both up C.) 

JOHN, (enters slowly D. R. 2.) How long the awful night! It 
seemed years of darkness! I thought the dawn would never come! 
I thanked God, when morning broke at last! 

CLAU. (comes to him.) Father! 

JOHN, (takes her in his arms, kisses her tenderly.) Light of my 
Heart! My darling child! How is my little girl this morning? 

CLAU. Oh, I am well; but you. Father dear! You look as though 
you had not slept! 

JOHN. I couldn't sleep, Claudie! But don't worry about me, dear! 
Good morning, Frank! 

FRANK, (shakes hands.) Good morning! Are you just up? 

JOHN. I haven't been to bed. I was wakeful, and so staid up in 
the Library. 

23 



CLAU. (reproachfully.) Father! You are killing yourself! You 
must rest! 

JOHN, (wildly.) I can't! I can't! 

FRANK, (they leading him to chair L.) This is no way to do! 
You have no right to do it! You owe it to Claudie to take better 
care of your health! Think how much you two are to each other! 
You are selfish, John! 

JOHN. Selfish? (draws Clau's face down and kisses her forehead.) 
Selfish? Yes! Perhaps you are right! We are so much to each other 
now! So much to each other noy! — What am I saying! I will try 
for your dear sake! Every time I look at you, I thank God that you 
are my child! 

CLAU. (on knees by his R. side.) Father darling! (head on his 
breast.) (Frank L. of him. Picture.) 

JOHN. My children! 

NEL. (comes in back of his chair, arms around his neck.) Where 
do I come in? 

JOHN. Right in the middle of all our hearts, little one! Ever 
since your dear, good mother died, and you came to us, you have been 
the sunshine of our hearts. 

NEL. Yes, Uncle John, you took Daddy and me under your wing. 
(hugs him, her head sideways on top of his.) Oooh! How I do love 
you! I've got two Daddys now! 

JOHN. Yes, little girl, two daddys as long as your father and I 
live! 

NEL. Two Fathers! I could go "Fa'ther" and fare worse! Say! 
If Daddy could make me marry "Chawles" Wilcutt Winthrop, E. S. Q. 
I'd have two sets of fore-fathers! But I guess I can "make the riffle" 
with what I have! (hugs John.) 

FRANK, (merrily.) You'd look pretty stirring up the staid, Puri- 
tanical ghost of old Governor Winthrop, the way you do the Judge! 
Ha, ha, ha! 

NEL. (laughing.) Ha, ha, ha! If I were to marry into his family, 
wouldn't the old witch-burner squirm in his grave! 

JOHN, (with suppressed excitement.) Have any of you heard about 
Jones this morning? 

CLAU. No, father. Why? What has happened? 

JOHN. Oh, nothing, of course! That is, he was not feeling well 
when he left here, yesterday. — Something like vertigo or locomotor 
ataxia. I was anxiously waiting — that is I didn't know — but you had 
heard. 

NEL. Vertigo? That accounts for it! 

JOHN. All what? 

NEL. I went for a drive, in the dog- cart, before breakfast; and 
I saw him. He staggered so that his chauffeur had to help him into 
his auto. 

JOHN. (Qxcited, to himself.) What! Able to be up? Is he made 
of steel, or is he the Devil! 

BLANCHE, (enters in auto dress, D. L. F. from L.) Good morn- 
ing all! 

CLAU. Mother. 

FRANK. Mrs. Allston, good morning! 

24 



BLANCHE. (R. of John.) Good morning, John! 

JOHN, (hiding- his feelings.) Oh! Pardon me! Good morning — 
Dear! 

JUDGE, (enters L. D. 3.) Howdy, Blanche! Hello, old chap! How 
are you? 

JOHN. Oh, I'm all right, Charlie! Just tired and worn out a bit, 
that's all. 

JUDGE. Well, you're going to rest, D'ye hear? 

JOHN. Yes! I'll rest! I'll rest! 

CLAU. You were out early this morning. Mother? 

BLANCHE. Yes. I had so much to do this morning. My dress- 
maker had my new gown to fit for the McAllister party, next week; 
and I had a lot of little errands beside. I had to get them off my 
hands this morning, for I have other things on hand for this after- 
noon. (John shows effect of her words on him. Strong by-play.) Oh, 
Society makes slaves of us! 

JOHN, (bitterly.) Slaves? Yes! Yes! 

BLANCHE. Well, Science has her slaves too! 

JUDGE. Yes. But she makes kings out of them! 

JOHN, (bitterly.) At least, she doesn't devour them body and 
soul! 

CLAU. Father! How strangely you said that! 

JOHN, (remembering himself.) Did I, Dear? — Perhaps! — I am not 
myself today! 

BLANCHE. Has anyone called here this morning? 

CLAU. Not yet. Mother. 

BLANCHE.- If Mr. Jones calls, tell him to wait. I want to see him. 
(John's strong by-play.) I'll be home, now, till after luncheon, (exits 
D. L. F. and R.) 

NELL. Gee! I'd hate to be a society woman, like Aunt Blanche! 
It keeps you busier than a pug dog with a good stock of fleas! 

JUDGE, (sees John's face.) John! What's the matter man? You 
look like a ghost! 

CLAU. (goes to him.) Father! (all show anxiety.) 

JOHN. It's nothing! I'm all right! Don't mind me! 

JUDGE. But we DO mind you! If you don't do as we tell you and 
stop burning the candle at both ends, it will kill you or you'll lose . 
your mind! You've got to take care of yourself, — to rest, if we have 
to tie you down! 

CLAU. (at his side.) Father! For my sake! For Claudia's sake! 

JOHN, (brushes away a tear.) Yes, my darling! For your sake, 
I will! I will! (she kisses him.) 

JUDGE, (to Frank.) Come, Frank, my boy! I want to have a talk 
with you about that Midas Mine swindle! (they exit D. L. 3.) 

NEL. (on knees L. of John.) Papa, Uncle John, Claw and I are 
the nurses and you are the nice, sweet, interesting invalid. You are 
going. to do just as we say and rest and take "Comfy!" Then, when 
you wake up, you shall have the nicest dinner and two big, fat kisses 
from your two nurses, for dessert! Lots of folks" would be glad to 
be sick just for that! 

CLAU. Father dear, you must! 

JOHN, (stroking their hands.) Yes, my girls, I will! 

25 



NBL. (jumps up.) Come, Claw! (up C.) Now remember! A 
good, long sleep! (they exit D. L. F. and L.) 

JOHN, (alone.) "A long sleep!" Yes! It will come soon enough! 
If they but knew that I am killing a man! My God! I would I could 
undo it! Ah! The antidote! I can! — (pause.) No! It is just! Why 
should I spare him? Did he spare me, who had been his friend? 
Let him die! He has ruined my home! My eden has crumbled to 
dust at my feet! The -rest is the Deluge, Babel, Chaos! He did it. 
Damn him! (cross to table.) The iron h2.s entered my soul! The 
Gorgon, Shame has looked into my eyes and turned me into stone! 
Yesterday, — Oh, it is an eternity since then! — Yesterday, I could not 
see the suffering of an insect without pity! Now, like a wild beast, 
I "^lay with my victim, my prey, tigerishly, gloatingly, and joy to 
watch him slowly die! She said he was up and about this morning! 
Is he made of iron? (up by cabinet.) I thought his reason would have 
tottered before this so he could not keep that appointment, (looks at 
decanter.) How has he fought it off? The poison was strong enough 
to kill an ox! — Ah! I see! It was TOO strong! (takes up de- 
cantur.) It has nauseated him! In my eagerness for my revenge, I 
have over-reached myself! What his stomach retained was enough 
to kill him eventually, but not enough to prevent him keeping their 
guilty tryste! (sees empty pigeon-hole. Lowers decantur.) The 
Nitrate Formula! — It was there! — Gone! Stolen! It was the worth- 
less one! I gave the real one to Charles! Thank God! — Could Jones 
have been the thief? (looks at decanter.) How could it have failed? 
Why did I leave this here? It is dangerous, (going L. 3.) Why didn't 
it do its work? Too slow! Too slow! At Three O'Clock! By Heaven, 
he shall not meet her! I'll kill him first! O Blanche! Blanche! How 
could you! (exits D. L. 3.) 

BLANCHE, (enters hurriedly, D. L. F. from R.) There is danger 
in the very air! I know it! I feel it! (crosses to cabinet.) What ails 
John? Is it fatigue, — over-work; or has he discovered something? 
(takes Jones' photo.) She said: "You have spoken of him eight times 
and Father only once!" Can she suspect? What did she mean by that? 
(CLAU. enters D. L. F. from L. and approaches C, hears and stops, 
behind Blanche.) I tremble every mioment I am here! I am standing 
on a volcano! Everything here is a reproach to me! I am torn 
between fear and remorse! I cannot bear it much longer! Ed., my 
darling! The only hours that I live, are the happy hours that I am 
away from all this and in your arms! (kiss photo.) 

CLAU. (snatches photo from her.) (in horror.) Mother! 

BLANCHE, (turns, thunderstruck.) Claudia! 

CLAU. My God! Mother! You? 

BLANCHE. Claudia! What do you mean? 

CLAU. I heard what you said! (with photo.) Edward Jones! My 
Mother! — his mistress! O God! 

BLANCHE. Claudia! How dare you say that to me? 

CLAU. You said it! I but repeat your words! You, the wife of 
a man like John Allston! You, my mother! You! You could stamp 
the brand of shame upon his brows, — on mine, your child's, and bring 
woe and ruin upon this happy home, — for that man's shameful love! 
You, my mother! Is this what Society has done for you? 

26 



BLANCHE. Claudia, listen! You shall not condemn me unheard! 
John Allston found me a simple, pleasure-loving girl, full of life and 
fond of company. He married me, — threw me into the vortex of 
fashionable society, young, inexperienced. He left me to amuse my- 
self! We should never have married. We were not mated! We 
had no tastes in common! When the first glamour of love had faded, 
I drifted away from him, because he would not enter with me the 
fairy -land, whose gates he had opened to me. Was I to blame that 
the heart he could not fill, should throb and yearn and hunger for 
companionship ? 

CLAU. Yes! While you bore the name of an honorable man, to 
whom you owed all, even the fashionable world, that was stealing 
you from him, you should have borne it honorably. 

BLANCHE. Who can say that I have not? 

CLAU. I can! I heard your words! "The only hours that I live, 
are the happy hours I am in your arms!" You have betrayed my 
father! You are false to him, to yourself, to me, your child! Your 
looks own it, your lips have avowed it! 

BLANCHE, (pleadingly.) Claudia, it was not my fault! I was 
powerless to resist! I was weak but not bad at heart! God only 
knows how bitterly I have paid the penalty in remorse and tears! 

CLAU. It was your fault, that, when you found your heart was 
no longer John Allston's, you did not go to him honestly and like an 
honorable woman, and tell him so. That you should wear the name 
of wife and yet dishonor that noble man, break his heart, shatter his 
life and bring shame upon his proud name, to which you owed so much! 
There can be no excuse for that! Oh, it was cruel, heartless, brutal! 

BLANCHE. O Claudia, Child! I know all this! In a moment of 
weakness, my blood throbbing in a riot of passion, I could not think, 
I could not reason! I was dragged down in the whirl-pool and lost! 
Lost! How often and how bitterly I have wept over it! I was weak, 
powerless! I, a woman with a woman's passionate yearning for love, 
attention, devotion; found, at the hands of this man, v/hat my heart 
hungered for! I know the depths of my sin, my shame! I would 
give my life to wipe it out and forget it all! 

CLAU. There is but one way to atone. Mother! Blot out the past! 
Begin again and live purely, truly and nobly, and let your life be an 
atonement for your sin. Then, when you have redeemed yourself by 
penitence and duty, go to my Father, tell him all and plead for his 
forgiveness! 

BLANCHE, (in terror.) I could not do that! I could not bear his 
pity, his contempt! He must never know! He would cast me out! 

CLAU. Mother, is it possible, after all these years, you do not know 
his great, kindly, gentle heart? I know him better than you, his wife! 
It would almost kill him, but he would forgive you, shield you. 

BLANCHE. It would kill him! I dare not tell him! 

CLAU. It is better that he should learn your secret from the lips 
of his repentant wife, than to learn it, for the first time, when her 
shame is blazoned to the world, (tears photo.) You must never see 
that man again! He must go out of your life now and forever! 

BLANCHE, (in tears, brokenly.) I promise, Claudia. I will not 
see him again. I will crush out my guilty love! I will live only for 

27 



my home! I will do all you ask, but I cannot tell John Allston! 

CLAU. Not now, perhaps; but the time will come when your own 
heart will force you to the confession. Till then, you are my mother, and 
your secret is safe with me. But this guilty liaison must stop for- 
ever! On that condition only I will be silent. To keep your secret 
otherwise, I should be an accomplice in the dishonor and ruin of the 
noblest Father in the world! 

BLANCHE, (on knees.) Claudia, I must obey. I am at your mery! 
See! groveling at your feet, I plead to you to keep this awful secret! 

CLAU. I have promised. Mother, if you repent. I will do all to 
help you that a true and pure woman can do! And I shall not forget 
that you, despite your sin, are still my Mother! (raises her.) 

BLANCHE. Claudia, my child! You will not crush me, then? You 
do not spurn me? 

CLAU. Do you think I could be less merciful to you, the mother 
who bore me, than the gentle Christ was to the stranger out-cast? 

BLANCHE. Then you will spare me, shield me, save me and, 

and forgive and love me still? 

CLAU. Yes, Mother! Like Him, I say to you: Go thy way and 
sin no more!" 

BLANCHE. Dear, gentle Claudia! How good, how noble you are. 

CLAU. Mother, (JOHN enters unseen, D. L. 3.) I am your friend 
always; but Edward Jones must never enter here again! 

JOHN. (L. C.) Jones? 

BLANCHE, (aside terrified.) John! (Blanche R. Clau. C. John L. 
C.) 

JOHN. What does this mean? 

CLAU. (with quick wit.) It means. Father, that Jones has robbed 
Frank of every cent of his patrimony! Jones, the trusted agent of 
Frank's father, who had been his benefactor! Ask Frank or Judge 
Wilcutt! He must never come here again! 

JOHN, (in rage.) The scoundrel! A Judas, who betrays his friend 
with a traitor's kiss! He never shall enter my house, never speak to 
an Allston again! (sinks in chair C. overcome.) 

BLANCHE, (looks gratefully at Clau. aside.) Saved! 

CLAU. (has gone to John.) Father! (bending over him.) 

BLANCHE, (aside.) I must warn him! (exits D. R. 2.) 

CLAU. (alarmed.) Father! Are you ill? Father! 

JOHN. There, there, my darling! It is nothing! I am not well to- 
day! I am weak and my anger overcame me. 

CLAU. O Father dear! I am so worried about you! Think what 
your life means to me! You must rest! 

JOHN. Rest! Yes, rest! Heaven knows I need rest! There! 
Forgive me, my darling child! I have startled you. I am only nervous 
today, — nervous and worn out! I'll try to sleep, for your sake! Yes, 
yes! (going toward D. R. 2.) 

CLAU. (with her arm around him.) Poor, dear Father! 

JOHN, (turns, takes her face in his hands.) My child! When I 
look into your pure, innocent eyes, I thank God for you and your 
noble, holy love! It is all to me now, Claudie! All! All! (exits, after 
kissing her.) 

CLAU. (looking after him.) Poor, poor Father! Thank Heaven 

38 



he does not know! (turns front.) It would drive him mad! It would 
kill him! (goes up C.) Oh, I cannot realize it! It is too awful! I 
am numb with the horror of it all! O, Mother! My heart aches for 
you! Oh, the pity of it! Poor, dear Father! Would to Heaven it 
were an awful dream! I would give my life, — oh how gladly! — to 
undo my Mother's crime! Poor Frank! I must break off our en- 
gagement. I cannot honorably let him bind his life to our shame! I 
cannot explain to him! It would compromise my Mother and reveal 
the bitter wrong she has done Father! O God pity us all! She has 
wrecked all our lives by her sin! But I must be brave and strong, 
for Father's sake, — for hers and for poor Frank's! I must fight the 
battle alone, alone! God help me! 

JONES, (enters D. L. P. from L.) (all through this scene, he 
shows the symptoms of the "Loco" poison.) Good morning, Miss 
Claudia! Is Mrs. Allston at home? 

CLAU. (tensely.) Mr. Jones, my Mother is never "At home" to 
you again! 

JONES, (starts.) What does this mean? 

CLAU. It means that I know all! All the horror and shame of it! 
You will never enter this house again. You will go out of her life 
and ours forever! 

JONES. Nonsense! What foolish fancy have you got into your 
head now? 

CLAU. You cannot deceive me! Your denial would be worse than 
useless! I tell you I know all, — your shameful intrigue with my 
Mother! 

JONES, (coolly.) Indeed! How do you know that? 

CLAU. That does not matter! I KNOW! (right up in his face.) 
Edward Jones you shall never see my Mother again! 

JONES. Let us speak plainly, then. Claudia Allston, you are a 
fool! 

CLAU. You, Edward Jones, are a scoundrel! 

JONES, (smiling.) Perhaps; but you don't dare to tell the world 
so! 

CLAU. What do you mean? 

JONES. You are more powerless against me than before. You 
dare not make a move! You would hide your Mother's secret from 
your Father and the world. 

CLAU. Yes. Well? 

JONES, (laughs.) You dare do nothing! Say Nothing! Your 
hands are tied! 

CLAU. (tensely.) No! I can avenge them! I can kill you! 

JONES, (snaps his fingers in her face.) Pshaw! Do you think 
I am afraid of a girl? Ha, ha, ha! 

CLAU. Girl no longer! I am a desperate woman, at bay! None 
but a fool would cross a lioness, who defends her own! I warn 
you, Edward Jones, if you ever meet my Mother again, I will kill 
you! 

JONES. Bah! You dare not! 

CLAU. Dare not? There is not a judge nor jury in America but 
would acquit me and praise my just retribution! 

29 



JONES. Yes, but your Father and the world would know your 
Mother's shame! You see I know your weak point! Ha, ha, ha! 

CLAU. (fiercely.) You! You dare tell me this? You, who have 
brought this shame upon this happy home? 

JONES, (contemptuously.) If you have any sense left, use it! 
The best society is full of such little incidents as this. If you expect 
to live in the world, you must be conveniently blind to its little 
piccadillioes! 

CLAU. Not when the Serpent of Shame enters our little Eden! I 
will not be your accomplice, as I would be, if I kept silence and suf- 
fered this crime to go on! I will not so wrong that noble father, 
whose hospitality and friendship you have abused to rob him of a 
man's dearest treasure, the wife he loves! I will not stand idly, sil- 
ently by and see you drag my Mother down into the depths of that 
Hell you have made for her! If you do not go out of all our lives 
forever and at once, I will kill you! 

JONES, (sneering.) Indeed! You are, at least, interesting! These 
things are all very well in plays and stories; but, in real life, people 
make the best of a bad matter and keep as quiet as possible about it. 

CLAU. I have already told my Father how you robbed Frank, and 
that you are a scoundrel and a thief! 

JONES, (fiercely.) What! 

CLAU. That is what I said! 

JONES (seizes her wrist roughly.) Damn you! You 

CLAU. (winces with pain.) You coward! 

JONES. I'd like to strangle you! 

CLAU. If my Father or Frank knew of this outrage — 

JONES, (releases her.) Fool! You dare not tell them! 

CLAU. I am an Allston! We never forget! 

JONES. So! You have arrayed your Father against me, eh? 

CLAU. He has sworn that you shall never enter this house, — never 
speak to an Allston again! 

JONES, (laughs.) Indeed! He may find the last hard to pre- 
vent! Be careful that you do not tell him too much! The shock 
might kill him; or, if not that, the quarrel that would follow, might 
result in his death! 

CLAU. (very quiet and intense.) I shall prevent that! I warn 
you now. I shall watch my Mother like a hawk, and I will shoot you 
on sight! 

JONES. You? Ha, ha! You make me laugh! (going up C.) Tell 
Mrs. Allston I'll be back shortly! Ha, ha, ha! 

CLAU. You hound! 

JONES, (sneers.) You poor little fool! (exits laughing, D. L. F, 
and L.) 

CLAU. (up G., in despair.) Oh this sea of Shame! It overwhelms 
me! He knew that he was right! For their sakes, I dare not kill 
him! I am powerless! Powerless! (sinks in chair by table.) Heav- 
en help me to save my mother! My poor, weak, wicked Mother! O 
Father! gentle Father! God pity and spare you! (buries face in 
arms on table, weeping.) 

FRANK, (enters D. L. 3. sees her weeping. Goes to L. of her.) 
What! Claudia in tears? Why! What is the matter? 

30 



CLAU. (controlling- herself, rises.) Prank, listen to me! I have 
something to say to you. 

FRANK, (surprised by her manner.) Claudia? 

CLAU. It will seem strange, cold, hard and cruel, coming from 
me; your promised wife; but I want to break off our engagement! 

FRANK, (thunderstruck.) TlJlaudia! 

CLAU. Yes, Frank, I know how hard the blow is to your big 
heart and MY heart aches for you, but it is best! 

FRANK. Why? 

CLAU. Forgive me, Frank, but I cannot explain! I pity you, dear! 
I know by the breaking of my own heart, how heavi-ly the blow falls 
on yours. But it is best that our life-paths lie apart! I would to 
God that I could tell you! 

FRANK. But I have a right to know! 

CLAU. I know you have; and the injustice to you makes it all 
the harder to tell you this. I cannot tell you, Frank! I have no right 
to! The happiness, the fate of others are involved. Trust me, dear 
one, and go, believing I would tell you if I could, God help me! 
(overcome with her emotion.) 

FRANK, (takes her hand and leads her to chair L. and stands by 
her.) Little woman, sit here, by the fire, and let us talk plainly and 
honestly. 

CLAU. (despairingly.) I cannot, Frank! I have nothing more 
to say! 

FRANK. But I have. Our whole life's happiness hangs on our 
understanding now! 

CLAU. (sadly.) There can be no understanding; for I cannot 
explain. 

FRANK. You need not, dear. I will explain to you! 

CLAU. (half frightened.) What do you mean? 

FRANK. Listen, Claudia! Knowing you so well, I know you are 
incapable of trifling with me, and I have absolute faith in your 
womanhood. It is not on your own account nor for your own sake you 
do this. 

CLAU. (startled.) Frank! What do you mean? 

FRANK. I mean that you are sacrificing yourself and me to a sense 
of honor and duty! It is not that you love me less; but that you 
love me more! 

CLAU. (with suppressed excitement.) Frank! Don't! 

FRANK. I must, dear, for both our sakes. Like the surgeon, "I 
must be cruel only to be kind!" You would save me from some 
blow that has fallen on you! 

CLAU. (terrified.) Please don't. Prank! 

FRANK, (takes both her hands.) There could be but two things 
in the world that would make you do this. The first is utterly im- 
possible, for you are above a thought of wrong! Your soul is as 
pure and white as a pearl! Forgive me, Claudia, I must say it, for 
both our sakes! 

CLAU. (pleading, helpless, frightened,) Frank! Frank! For God's 
sake! 
FRANK. It is your Mother! 
CLAU. (in agony.) Frank! 

81 



FRANK. I know, poor little girl! I have not been blind! 

CLAU. (half aside.) O Heaven help me! I have! 

FRANK. I have seen the cloud gathering. I could not speak. I 
had no right to. I could not wound and shame the heart of the wom- 
an I loved. I could not bring down disgrace and ruin on her Mother 
and madness and despair on the noble heart of John Allston! 

CLAU. (trying to rise.) Frank, for God's sake, if you love me — 

FRANK, (restrains her gently.) It is because I love you, Claudia, 
better than life or anything in this world, that I must speak now. 
You would shield me, — spare me. 

CLAU. (in despair.) Yes, Frank! Yes! 

FRANK. And this is why you are sacrificing your heart and mine? 

CLAU. Yes, dear! The shadow of our shame must not blight your 
life! 

FRANK. Claudie, YOU are my life! It is YOU I love! Your own 
lips said it only yesterday, "Haven't we promised to share our joys 
and sorrows together? Your trouble is my trouble! 'They twain 
shall be one!'" Claudia Allston, you shall be my wife! (she rises.) 
There! Don't speak! You would fight this battle alone! You shall 
not! I, your husband, will help you! I will be a son to John Allston, 
and you shall lean on me! It is no longer your secret; it is ours 
together; and sharing your trouble with me, your promised husband. 
I will be your strength, my arms your refuge! 

CLAU. O Frank! You are so good, so noble! (Weeps on his 
shoulder.) 

FRANK. So shall you ever rest your tired heart on mine, Claudia 
darling! Won't you, my brave little woman? 

CLAU. Yes, Frank, always! Always! But it seems so selfish to 
let you make this sacrifice! 

FRANK. The only sacrifice in this world that I dread and fear, 
Claudia, is the loss of you, the woman I love. 

CLAU. (kisses him.) Frank! 

FRANK. Tell me all about it, dear! 

CLAU. Oh, I cannot! I cannot! But he, that man! I told father 
how he had robbed you. I never saw Father so angry before! He 
said Jones should never enter this house, never speak to an Allston 
again! Frank, he must not! 

NEL. (enters D. L. 3.) Hello! Break away! I'm coming in! 
What's the matter with you two? You look as glum as though you 
had been saying your creed or swallowing quinine! You haven't 
quarrelled, have you? 

FRANK. Why certainly not, you tease! (they go C. Nel. L. of 
them.) 

NEL. Is that the way Love acts in the last dangerous stages? 
(they going R.) Oh, don't let me drive you away! You can stay 
here and "Moon!" I'll go. I was just hunting for company! 

CLAU. (kisses her.) Poor child! I know it! When we are in 
trouble, you miss the sunshine! (to Frank.) I'll be back shortly, 
(exits D. R. 2.) 

NEL. What's the matter with everybody here? They all act as 
though they had indigestion or had seen a ghost! This will drive me 
to matrimony ! 

t 

33 



FRANK, (laughs loud.) What! You are not thinking- of marriage? 

NEL. Certainly! You don't think you've got a monopoly on it, 
do you? Maybe you think you're a trust, a syndicate! that you've 
got the market cornered! Claudia, Frank and Co., Sole Proprietors 
of Matrimany, Honey-moons, Wedding rings, "Goo-goo eyes," "Lovey- 
dovey," etc, etc. — Well, I'm going to join the Trust! See? 

FRANK, (laughing.) You little scamp! You're good for the blues! 

NEL. Say! You're the first one that has laughed out loud, in 
this house, today! I'm as lonesome as the statue on top of the Mad- 
ison Square Garden tower! I'm all alone! All alone! 

FRANK. Why, where's the Judge? 

NEL. I don't know. I stirred him up, a little while ago, and he 
began cutting capers and pigeon-wings and went out in a cloud of 
glory, like a red sun-set! 

FRANK. Why, what was the trouble? 

NEL. Oh, I didn't have any trouble; but Daddy has HIS though! 
He wants me to marry Mr. Charles Wilcutt Winthrop, E. S. Q. 

FRANK, (smiling.) And you won't? 

NEL. No! I have made other arrangements! (sits in easy chair 
L. hidden from view from Judge.) 

JUDGE, (enters D. L. 3.) Hello, Frank! Have you seen anything 
of that spoiled kid of mine? 

NEL. (from depths of chair.) Present! 

FRANK, (amused.) What's she been doing now, Judge? 

JUDGE, (in chair L. of table.) Doing? Doing? Did you ever see 
a farmer trying to hive a swarm of bees, and the fool queen bee 
wouldn't go into the new hive? 

NEL. She wants to pick her own hive! "How doth the little busy 
bee improve each shining hour, To keep the Boston Winthrop bee 
from capturing her dower; The while her Daddy flieth up and look- 
eth fierce and sour!" 

JUDGE, (warmly.) Sour? Sour? SOUR? 

NEL. Daddy! You don't need to say it but once! You use up 
too much breath! — atmosphere! 

JUDGE. I don't believe you've got good sense! 

NEL. Yes, Daddy, I have. I'm an improvement on the last gen- 
eration of Willcutts! 

JUDGE. What's that? See here! If you were a boy, I'd paddle 
you! 

NEL. But I'm not; and you wouldn't strike a lady! (stands up by 
chair.) 

JUDGE, Humph! I'd wallup a sassy kid! 

NEL. (rubs her head against his breast.) Daddj% do you think 
you could lick me in a fair fight? 

JUDGE. Young lady, there's something coming to you! 

NEL. I know it. Poppy! He said, in his last letter, that he was 
coming to me! (Frank up C. during this scene, much amused.) 

JUDGE. Who? 

NEL. My great, big Center Rush Sweet- heart, Charlie! 

JUDGE, (shakes her.) Well, he's not! 

NEL. (L. C.) Daddy! You mustn't be saucy to me! 
JUDGE. What's that? 

33 



NEL. You mustn't contradict! 

JUDGE. See here, youngster, you put all this nonsense about this 
jay football player out of your head! You'll marry Charles Winthrop! 

NEL. I think you're mistaken, Judge! I'd rather marry a man 
than a family tree! 

JUDGE. Humph! A nameless nobody! a country yap! Bosh! 
Now Winthrop is from a fine old Puritan stock. 

NEL. Yes! The May-flower was his Great Grandmother! Oh, 
good stock! Pedigree longer than a prize Berkshire pig! 

JUDGE. Pig? Pig? Well, I'll be 

NEL. Daddy, who's boss in our family? 

JUDGE. By Jingo! I'm boss in my family! 

NEL. Well, not so's you can notice it! 

JUDGE. Eh? What's that? 

NEL. You THINK you are but you're mistaken! You're boss of 
the Court, but not boss of the courting! Daddy, I give my consent 
for you to be Charlie's Daddy-in-law! 

JUDGE. Not by a 

NEL. Oh, you'll be all right, dear! When you can't do what you 
want to, you must to do what you can do. See? 

JUDGE. Well, you flea! I'll show you what I can do and will do! 
I've invited Winthrop here! 

NEL. I'm going to visit Aunt Dot! 

JUDGE. What's that? 

NEL. (sadly.) New York's bad for my health! 

JUDGE. I guess your health will stand it till after his visit. 

NEL. He can visit you. Dad. 

JUDGE. No! He'll visit you. Miss! (crosses L. C. she swings 
round R. of him and L. of table. Frank down front of table.) 

NEL. Showing off your goods to the customers, eh? Well, this 
pattern is already spoken for! 

JUDGE. Well, it's not delivered yet; and I'll "Deliver the goods!" 

NEL. And I'll see that the goods go to the right address, little boy! 

JUDGE. Say, Kid. There'll be blisters all over you! 

NEL. Well, it will be from hugging, then; and love cures that 
blister, Mister! 

JUDGE. Humph! Who'll be the hugger? 

NEL. Charlie! (hugs herself.) 

JUDGE. And you'll be the hug-gee, I suppose! 

NEL. If you please. Daddy! 

JUDGE, (in a rage.) Well, it don't please Daddy! 

NEL. (hides R. by Frank, back to back.) Poor Daddy! I'm sorry 
for you. Daddy, it's nice when you both love! 

JUDGE. Love? Twaddle! Bosh! Rot! 

NEL. Stop talking German, Daddy! 

JUDGE. Love! Humph! You go play with your dolls! You 
know about as much about love as a baboon does about law! 

NEL. Why, don't you know the law. Daddy? 

JUDGE. Oh! I'm a baboon now, am I? 

NEL. I didn't SAY so! 

FRANK, (swings her round C. she kicks him.) Ouch! 
JUDGE. Humph! Well! I'm the boss monk of this cage! 

34 



NEL. Yes, Daddy, when I'm off on a visit! 

JUDGE. All the time! 

NEL. All the time sometimes! Daddy, I'm going to marry Charlie 
at Christmas; and, if you'll be good, you may come to the wedding! 

JUDGE. Wedding the Devil! What do you two idiots think I 
am? A chump to let you run this household? 

NEL. Yes, Daddy! 

JUDGE. Well, by Jingo, I'm not! I wish there was a swearing 
room in this house! 

NEL. It would be handy for you, dear! (with mock sympathy.) 

FRANK. Oh, don't mind us, Judge! You have every provocation! 

NEL. (aside.) Traitor! (pinches him.) 

FRANK. Ouch! 

JUDGE. That kid will drive me to drink! 

NEL. You'll find it on the side-board. Daddy. 

JUDGE. I'd give Five Hundred Dollars if you were a boy for just 
five minutes! 

NEL. Sorry I can't oblige you! I need the money, too, for my 
trousseau! 

JUDGE. Dam! — Dam! !— Dam! ! ! There! Now I'll go and smoke! 
(exits D. L. 3.) 

FRANK, (laughing.) Nel, you ought to be roasted! 

NEL. Ha, ha, ha! I'll go and smoothe down his ruffled feathers. 
Daddy's got the fidgets again! (going L.) Ha, ha, ha! (demurely, 
at door.) I've been a mother to him! 

FRANK. Yes! A Step-mother! (she exits laughing.) She comes 
in first under the wire and takes the gate-money, with everything else 
in the race shut out! Ha, ha, ha! (turns up C. meets Jones, who 
come in C, from L. through door. He shows symptoms of "Loco.") 

JONES. Ah! You here? 

FRANK, (coldly.) Yes. But I am surprised that you have the 
audacity to come here! 

JONES, (coolly.) Not altogether an agreeable surprise, Eh? 

FRANK. It is Mr. Allston's orders that you never enter this house, 
never speak to a member of his family again! 

JONES, (coolly.) Yes. I had heard it rumored. 

FRANK. Then what are you doing here? 

JONES. Smiling at you. (staggers then sits C.) 

FRANK. There's the door. Sir! 

JONES. Yes, I see it. Use it, if you choose. I won't need you, 
my man! 

FRANK, (enraged.) Leave this house! 

JONES. Are you the proprietor or the foot-man? 

FRANK. I am the affianced husband of John Allston's daughter! 

JONES, (sneeringly.) Ah! I congratulate you! 

FRANK, (in rage.) Get out or I'll throw you out! 

JONES. Ah! That might make gossip, — scandal, — causes surmises 
that your prospective father-in-law and his family would not thank 
you for starting. 

FRANK, (close up to him and very tense.) Edward Jones, I know 
what you mean! I know all! 

JONES, (shows surprise.) All? 

35 



FRANK. Yes! • The real reason that brings you here! 

JONES, (rising fiercely.) Then you dare not quarrel with me, you 
young- fool! 

FRANK. I have my own quarrel with you, without involving the 
name of any woman! You have robbed me! Stolen! Do you hear? 
You are a thief! (strikes him in the face.) 

JONES, (draws pistol.) You puppy! (they struggle for it, one 
turn around. Frank gets it, THEN Judge enters D. L. 3.) 

FRANK. You robber! It is my life or yours! (Judge wrests pistol 
from Frank, passes Frank L. of himself R. Jones up C.) 

JUDGE. Let go! Let go! (tears them apart, and positions as 
above. Throws pistol on C. of rug, R. behind screen, then comes up 
C. Jones R.) What does this mean? 

FRANK. It means that I have an account to settle with that man! 

JUDGE. Not now! Not here, in this house, Frank! 

FRANK. Very well! (to Jones.) But I'll find you, you thief! 
(exits D. L. 3.) 

JONES. The fool was armed and would have shot me! He has 
threatened before, to do it! 

JUDGE. Well, it would have been unlawful, but not unjust! You 
have stolen his fortune. You are a thief; and if ever a contemptible 
scoundrel richly deserved shooting, you do! 

JONES, (blusters.) What do you mean, Sir? 

JUDGE. I mean that if you with your Damned Wall-Street con- 
science, had your just deserts, you'd be too dead to skin, if you had as 
many lives as a tom-cat! 

JONES. Take care what you say! 

JUDGE. Care, you whelp! If you, and all the confidence-men and 
grafters like you, got justice, there'd be a long row of graves in the 
robbers' cemetery and plenty of elbow-room in Wall Street for hon- 
est men! 

JONES, (fiercely.) Judge Wilcutt, you shall answer to me for this! 

JUDGE. You said that yesterday! Now listen, Damn you, Sir! 
I WILL answer to you! (up L. C.) The first time I meet you on 
the street, I'll thrash you like a cur! (exits D. L. F. and R.) (Jones 
follows up. — staggers. — Blanche enters in time to see Judge just going 
out. Jones does not see her come from D. L. 3) 

JONES. The old ruffian! He'd do it, too! 

BLANCHE. Ed! What is the matter? (John enters D. R. 2. 
quietly.) 

JONES. Nothing, darling! (John stops, hearing it, and sees her 
kiss Jones. Powerful by-play.) 

BLANCHE, (hurriedly.) I'll be there at Three! The Formula! He 

might miss it, 

JONES. I'll patent it this afternoon! 

BLANCHE. There's danger! We are suspected! I'll tell you all 
at Three. But go now! (She kisses him and exits D. L. 3 he goes 
out D. L. F. and L.) 

JOHN, (wildly.) At Three O'clock he'll be in Hell! (steps on 
pistol.) WTiat? (picks it up.) A revolver! (looks at it, rushes 
out after Jones.) 

36 



JUDGE, (enters, after a second's pause, D. L. F. from R.) The 
infernal scoundrel! (shot heard outside. L.) Eh? What's that? 

CLAU. (rushes on D. R. 2.) Frank! Frank! Uncle Charlie! 
What is it? 

JUDGE. The Lord knows! (CLAU. crosses L. C. Judge up R. 
C. as Watson, the chauffeur, enters C. from L. with Jones dead in 
his arms.) 

WATSON. Quick, Sir! Help! Mr. Jones is shot! 

BOTH. Shot? 

WATSON. Yes! Send for a Doctor, Sir! 

JUDGE, (looks at body.) Too late! He's past help! 

CLAU. (with horror.) Dead? 

J 'DGE. Yes. (Blanche enters hurriedly, D. L. 3. sees body, 
screams.) 

BLANCHE. Ed! My — (Clau. grasps her arm. She checks her- 
self.) My God! (falls on her knees by body.) Dead! Dead! 
(struggle to conceal her love. Clau. has hand on her shoulder.) 
Blanche looks up.) Who did it? Who murdered him? (John, pale 
and haggard, in door back of them. Looks at wife. She sees him 
and shrinks, clinging to Clau. who does not see him.) 

WATSON. Mr. Frank Bartlett! 

CLAU. (screams.) Frank? No! No! Not Frank! Not Frank! 
(crosses to Judge and sinks on her knees, sobbing. (Blanche sinks 
fainting L. of body, or she can faint later, see note.) 

WATSON. Yes. He must have done it. I heard the shot and 
saw Mr. Jones fall down the front steps. I jumped out of the auto 
to go to him, when I saw Mr. Bartlett run out of that side door, 
(points off, L. U.) He was in a terrible rage. Sir. 

CLAU. Frank didn't do it! 

JUDGE. I don't believe it! 

WATSON. "WTiy, Sir, I saw, through that window, just now, Mr. 
Bartlett, with a pistol, fighting with him. I saw you part them! 

CLAU. What! (to Judge, eagerly clinging to him.) You, you will de- 
fend him? 

JUDGE. I can't! Heaven help me! He has forced me to be a 
witness! 

JOHN. My child! — And Frank! (clutches door post to steady 
himself. Then a step forward, cries out.) Claudia! (Blanche can 
faint here if preferred.) 

CLAU. (rushes to him and throws herself, sobbing into his arms.) 
Father! 

JOHN. My poor child! 

Picture. Curtain. 



ACT. 3. 

ACT III. Same set as Acts I. and II. The Morning of the Third Day. 
NEL. (Discovered in front of fire L.) Isn't it awful to be in 
house where it's wicked to laugh! Aunt Blanche has gone around 
in a sort of dazed horror, ever since Jones was shot. It IS terrible 
to have someone killed in the house! And poor Uncle John! He 



37 



wanders round like one walking in an awful dream! It is just killing 
him, poor man! And Darling Claw looks like a ghost, and no won- 
der! Frank in prison and accused of murder and her Father almost 
crazy, and her Mother looking like a corpse with wild, living eyes, 
it's just enough to kill her, poor Claw! Oh, my heart aches for her 
till I can't keep the tears back! I don't like to cry! It don't fit 
my face! (Blanche enters D. R. 2) Aunt Blanche! Don't look like 
that! You almost frighten me! 

BLANCHE. Oh, I can't help it, Nellie! The awful shock! The 
terrible thought of an old friend being murdered almost before my 
very eyes! I can never forget it! Never! Never! (drops in Chair 
C.) 

NEL. There, Aunt Blanche! I know you were great friends; but 
friends die every day! You have dear Uncle John and Claw; and 
they are worth all the friends in the world! They'll make you for- 
get it all! 

BLANCHE, (rises.) O Nellie, child! You don't understand. 

NEL. Why yes I do! Friends are nice and all; but they aren't 
like your own, that you love and that are a part of your life! They're 
what count. Aunt Blanche! They're the ones we can't forget! 

BLANCHE, (crosses to chair L. aside.) Every word of this in- 
nocent child stabs like a knife! (sits. CLAU. enters in street wraps, 
C. from L.) 

NEL. (going up L. of her.) O Claw! Darling! Did you see 
poor Frank? 

CLAU. (C.) Yes. Poor boy! He Is so brave, — so strong, so hope- 
ful! He says he does not fear. He did not do it, and that the truth 
will come out yet! 

NEL. And so it will. Claw! Don't fret and worry ! I KNOW he 
didn't do it! 

CLAU. But everything looks so dark for him! I am afraid! Afraid! 
I told him I had placed my fortune in Uncle Charlie's hands to save 
him; but he said he would not use a penny of it! But he must! 
He shall! He cannot prevent me from doing all I can to clear him! 

NEL. Yes; and Daddy is moving Heaven and Earth to do it! And 
Daddy can do anything, you know! Don't be afraid! 

CLAU. (comes down L. of table, crossing Nel.) Oh, why did he 
come to our home, to curse it even with his death! 

BLANCHE, (rises.) Claudia! 

CLAU. (facing her.) Mother! 

BLANCHE, (tensely.) Do you know what you are saying? 

CLAU. Yes! 

JUDGE, (enters D. L. 3. comes C. between Clau. and Blanche. — 
Nel. down back of table.) Hello! How are you all? Blanche, you 
are not looking your usual self today. 

BLANCHE. How can I after that awful scene, yesterday? I can't 
sleep! I can't think! I wander through the house like a lost soul 
in Purgatory! (crosses R.) 

JUDGE. Nonsense! You'll get over it. Such things happen every 
day! Wait till you can think it over, and you'll be all right, Blanche! 

BLANCHE, (by D. R. 2) Never! I will never forget the horror 
of it all! Never! (exits D. R. 2.) 

38 



JUDGE. (L. aside.) If I were John Allston, I'd be glad that man 
was dead ! 

CLAU. (R. of table, looks after Blanche.) Poor Father! 

JUDGE, (crosses to her and takes her hands. Nel. crosses L. of 
them.) Don't worry, little girl! John will be all right after a rest. 
(pats her on shoulder.) It is only over- work! He WILL work like 
a dray-horse and ten men couldn't stand it! I'll make him rest if 
I have to commit him to the Island for thirty days! (comes C.) 

NEL. (L. of him.) Daddy, have you heard any news? 

JUDGE, (takes out paper.) Yes. See here! (reads.) "The Midas 
Mine, that was considered worthless, suddenly turned out to be a big 
Bonanza! The richest strike in years! The entire stock belongs 
to Mr. Frank Bartlett, who has been arrested in connection with the 
shooting of Broker Jones yesterday, at the home of Mr. John Allston, 
the noted chemist. Jones had palmed off the then worthless Midas 
stock on Bartlett, for $80,000 which is supposed to have been the 
cause of the quarrel. Today, Bartlett, though a prisoner, is, probably, 
a multi-millionaire." 

CLAU. (despairingly.) Too late! Poor Frank! (sinks in chair C.) 

JUDGE, (pats her on shoulder.) Oh, don't lose hope, Claudia girl! 
I don't believe he did it, and I'll make the fight of my life for him! 
Trust to Heaven! Truth is mighty and will prevail! 

CLAU. (takes both his hands gratefully.) God bless you, Uncle 
Charlie! 

NEL. Well, Jones wasn't as smart as he thought he was! The 
Devil overreached himself that time! 

JUDGE. (C.) Yes; but he revenged himself by putting Frank 
where he couldn't use it and by letting it come a day too late! 

NEL. I wish Jones could have lived to have seen what a fool he 
had been; then he would have hung himself or died of apoplexy and 
nobody to blame! 

JUDGE. It's pretty hard that the man, whoever he was, who had 
the honor of ridding the world of such vermin, should be branded as 
a criminal! The killer was a public benefactor! Jones' death was 
a blessing all round! The only good thing he ever did, the only 
service he ever rendered humanity was to die! I attended his fun- 
eral, today, with a great deal of pleasure! It was a most enjoyable 
affair to all who knew him, except his dirty-work men and a few 
society fools! 

CLAU. I'll send Frank word of this, Uncle Charlie. (he gives 
her the paper.) I KNOW he did not shoot him! Put the best detec- 
tives on the case, 

JUDGE. I have, dear. They are hunting for a clue. I have sent 
for Watson, the Chauffeur, to meet me here. I'll question and sift 
him. 

CLAU. (going R.) Leave nothing undone. Spare no expense. I 
trust all to you. Uncle Charlie! I'd give my fortune, — my life, to 
save him! (exit D, R. 2.) 

NEL. (following her to R. C.) O Daddy! Isn't Claw the sweet- 
est, grandest girl in the world? How I pity her! I know how I'd 
feel if it was my Charlie! 

JUDGE. Your Charlie be blowed! You've made a nice mess of 

39 



it! I got a letter, this morning-, from Joe Winthrop, Charles' father. 
He says Charles has heard that you said-d you'd never marry him 
and that you hated him; and now he declares that he will never 
marry any woman unless she loves him and he loves her! So you 
see the fat's in the fire and you have tipped the skillet! 

NEL. Well, I'd rather tip the skillet than to be served up as a 
"prime broiler!" 

JUDGE. Humph! You ought to be broiled for a witch! (sits by 
fire.) 

NEL. And you want him for chief cook! Yes! his ancestors were 
"Witch-broilers" all right! (door bell rings. Postman's call off L. 
U. "MAIL!") 

NEL. (goes to C. D. and off L. for mail and back at end of Judge's 
speech.) » 

JUDGE, (as she is out.) She's getting out of my jurisdiction! I 
don't seem to have any authority in her case! Humph! 

NEL. (coming back with two letters.) One for you and one for 
me! (gives him his and goes to chair C. by table with hers.) 

JUDGE, (reading.) "Brother Charles I knew how set you are in 
your ways and that neither of you would ever give in or had one 
bit of diplomacy, so I introduced Nellie to Charlie Winthrop!" — What! 
—"without letting her know who he was; and, of course, they fell 
in love!" — What (reads on smiling, gleefully.) 

NEL. (reading.) "My Dear Nellie: I knew you would never marry 
anyone who had been picked out for you, so I introduced you to 
Charlie," — Dear Auntie Dot! — "Of course you both fell in love!" — 
(hugs- letter.) O-ohl "Well, my dear, his real name Is Charles Wil- 
cutt Winthrop!" — What! (pause.) Well I'll be switched! 

JUDGE, (stares at letter, grinning.) Well, I'll be damned! (both 
turn simultaneou- ly.) Y\?ho's your letter from,? 

NEL. Aunt Dot. And yours? 

JUDGE. Dot! (they rise slowly and come C. meeting, exchange 
letters and turn back to back and read, then face to face, together.) 
Kid! 

NEL. Dad! (they embrace and go up C. with arms around each 
other.) (up C. they face each other.) 

JUDGE, (takes her face in his hands.) Nel. you're a good little 
scamp ! 

NEL. So are you. Dad! (they kiss.) And Aunt Dot's a good lit- 
tle scamp too! 

JUDGE. Yep! (they exit with arms around each other, C. and L.) 
CLAU. (enters D. R. 2 and comes C.) Not one ray of hope! (up 
C.) O Frank, my darling! I would give my life to save you! — He 
did not do it! He could not! (pause, turns.) And yet, could it be 
that, enraged by what I told him, he made my cause his own and 
killed him? Killed him for my sake! Did my words inspire his rash 
act? (sinks in chair C.) The deed is mine, not his! I'll save him 
cost what it may! I will confess that I shot him! — that he struck 
me, coward like, and I killed him! It was in my heart to do it! 
Frank shall not die! He shall not die! (she weeps. Enter Blanche 
D. R. 2) Mother! 

40 



BLANCHE, (front of table.) Claudia, you must control youreslf! 
You must be calm! You will only make yourself ill. 

CLAU. (wildly.) Calm? I shall never know a calm moment 
till he is out of danger! 

BLANCHE, (comes C.) The man you love, lives. There is every- 
thing to hope in your case, Claudia, (crosses L.) My love is hope- 
less! He is dead! Dead! 

CLAU. (rises indignantly.) Mother! Mine is the pure love of an 
innocent woman for an honorable man! A love that any woman may 
avow before the whole world with pride, not shame! You MUST not, 
— you SHALL not compare it to your guilt3^ shameful passion, — your 
criminal intrigue with that luan! 

BLANCHE, (faces her.) Claudia Allston. 

CLAU. (faces her.) Blanche Allston! 

BLANCHE. You forget I am your mother! 

CLAU. You lor,?ot it when j^ou brought shame and ruin on your 
husband and child! 

BLANCHE. Claudia Allston, who are you to sit in judgment on 
me? What do you, with your father's cold nature, know of the wild, 
passionate heart of a woman like me? Faugh! There is water in 
your veins, while mine are filled with blood and fire! Had you had 
my nature and my temptations, could you have stood there, now, 
boasting of your purity, your virgin innocence? I tell you I loved that 
man! Loved him, as you, with your weak nature, could never love, 
— never understand, — never dream of! And he is dead! Dead! 

CLAU. Yes! Dead, by the judgment of Heaven, and we are both 
saved! — you from his pow^er and I from Murder! 

BLANCHE. What do you mean? 

CLAU. I mean that if someone else had not killed him, I would! 

BLANCHE, (with horror.) You? 

CLAU. Yes! I would have saved you and avenged my father's hon- 
or! 

BLANCHE, (fiercely). You, Claudia Allston! You would have mur- 
dered the man I loved? 

CLAU. I v/ould have killed the man you had no right to love! the 
man you swore to me to forget, but you were too weak to keep that 
oath! — The man whose love was shame, infamy, outrage and dis- 
honor! Heaven has removed him and you are saved! 

BLANCHE. I will hunt down the one who murdered him! 

CLAU. It was not murder, Mother! It was the justice of Heaven! 
Whoever killed him was your best friend! 

BLANCHE, (softened.) Claudia, you cannot understand, — you will 
never know how much I loved him! Heaven help m«! I love him 
still! (sits C. Clau. L. of her. standing.) 

CLAU. Then thank Heaven, he is dead! 

BLANCHE, (starts up.) Claudia! Don't say that or I shall hate 
you! 

CLAU. Mother, let your shameful love die with him and be buried 
in repentance and remorse, or I shall despise you! If I thought, when 
you swore to forget and repent, you swore to a lie, my sympathy 
would turn to contempt, my pity and love to loathing! Mother! 
Don't make me think worse of you than I do! Let me believe you 

41 



weak, but not all bad at heart! For God's sake, don't make me think 
that you were not sincere! Let me think there is, still, some rem- 
nant in your nature, of the dear mother, against whose loving heart 
nestled the tired, curly head of her baby girl, her little Claudia! 

BLANCHE, (much moved.) Forgive me, Claudia! I cannot, in 
an instant, tear from my heart the love that has grown there so long! 
I'll do my duty! I will forget and bury the past! but I cannot do this 
all at once! I must have time to learn to forget! I am torn be- 
tween my sinful love and duty! Have pity on me! Have mercy! 
Bear with me, a broken-hearted, repentant woman! (falls on knees, 
clinging to Claudia.) 

CLAU. (raises her.) Yes, Mother, I will help you! I will be 
patient! I will save you from yourself! (going R. with Blanche.) 
Turn your back upon the bitter past and lay your penitent heart 
at the feet of Him, who said, of old, to the repentant Magdalene: 
"Go thy way and sin no more!" (exeunt DR.) 

JOHN, (comes slowly through D. L. 3. haggard and worn, in deep 
thought, comes to rug where Jones had lain, and, during speech, 
first shows horror and remorse, then gradually the justice of it all.) 
Another long night of horror! I could see him lying there, in the 
dark, stark and cold, the clotted blood-spot on the back of his head! 
Ugh! — He seemed luminous in the darkness! I could hear the slow 
ticking of the clock, the throbbing of my heart, the sobbing of the 
wind and rain outside. I thought the night would never end! I 
prayed, in agony, for the dawn, that would not come! I shut my 
eyes but could not shut IT out! That dead, awful thing lying there 
so cold and still! O God! (pause.) No! It was NOT murder, it 
was just! He wronged me! The bitterest, most savage wrong one 
man can do another, and I killed him! (grinds mat with heel.) The 
Viper! (comes down to chair L.) It was Heaven's justice! Heaven 
placed the avenging weapon in my hands! It was the will of God! — 
But was it? Oh, I don't know! I don't know! (up C.) If it were, 
would Heaven have allowed Frank and Claudia to suffer for my act? 
I have drawn down the thunder- bolt on my own heart! He, who 
grasps revenge, plays, bare -handed, with a serpent, that may turn 
and fang him! I thought myself the instrument of Heaven! I seized 
its vengeance only to drag it down on the heads of those I loved best 
in the world! — my child and that true, innocent boy, around whose 
heart her own heart-strings had twined; — into whose weaving threads 
of fate the very fibers of her life and love and hope were woven! O 
God help me! The sin was mine, not theirs! Let mine alone, then, 
be the punishment! I will expiate my crime! O Frank! Frank, my 
boy, — my son, — my Claudia's happiness, — heart of her heart! You shall 
not die! That woman's guilty secret shall not cost his life and 
Claudia's happiness! He shall not die for her guilty act and my mad 
revenge! O God! Let the guilty alone suffer, the innocent go free! 
(he sinks in chair by table, head in hands. CLAU. enters D. L. C. 
from R. comes down back of him, lays hand on his shoulder.) 

CLAU. Father. 

JOHN, (starts.) Claudia! 

CLAU. Forgive me, dear! I startled you! (lays head on his 
shoulder.) 

42 



JOHN. 'Twas nothing", JDearie! I'm only nervous and unstrung. 
Don't mind me, my poor little girl! Think of yourself, poor child! 

CLAU. O Father! I can think of nothing- but poor, dear Frank! I 
have tried in vain to find some crumb of comfort, some ray of hope! 
There is none, — none! 

JOHN. My heart bleeds for you, Claudie! I would give my poor, 
miserable life to spare you this suffering! 

CLAU. Father! Don't say that! You don't know how dear, how 
much you are to me! In this, the darkest, bitterest hour of my life, 
I come to you, my darling Father, and lay my burden of woe upon 
your great, gentle soul and find rest in your kind arms and on your 
loving heart. 

JOHN, (with intense feeling.) Claudia, my child! But yester- 
day, my little baby girl! Your chubby arms twined round my neck, 
— ^your baby cheek pressed close to mine! I kissed your golden curls 
and thanked God that He had sent an angel into my lonely life! 

CLAU. Father dear! 

JOHN. I swore to shield you from all harm, — all sorrow! Then, in 
your budding girlhood, my heart, in its solitude, turned to you, its 
solace, its gentle refuge from a world grown bitter, cruel, cold! 

CLAU. My poor dear! I know! 

JOHN. Claudie, my child, how, in the full bloom of womanhood, 
that sorrow has come! I'll keep that oath! 

CLAU. Father, what do you mean? 

JOHN. Look in my eyes, child! Frank shall not die! 

CLAU. Father! What can we do? 

JOHN. "He, who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb," — "He that 
marks the sparrow's fall," will not let your innocent hears suffer 
for the guilty! The one, who killed that — that man, must be found, — 
must pay the penalty! 

CLAU. Oh, if he could be found! I have told Uncle Charlie to use 
my fortune to the last cent, but to save Frank! 

JOHN. Right, my child! I will spare nothing! I will save him! — 
I swear it! — at whatever cost! 

CLAU. Heaven bless you, dear! 

JUDGE, (enters D. L. F. from L.) John, Jones' chauffeur, Wat- 
son, is here. I want to question him. May he come in? 

JOHN. Certainly! 

CLAU. May I stay? 

JUDGE. Yes, dear, of course! Come in, Watson! (he enters C. 
from L.) 

WATSON. Good morning, Mr. Allston! Miss Allston! (they bow.) 

JUDGE. Watson, the evidence, so far, is merely circumstantial, 
and we want to be sure there is no mistake. 

WATSON. Humph! There can be no mistake! Through that 
window, I saw Bartlett fighting with Mr. Jones. I saw them break 
away, and I saw the pistol in Bartlett's hand; and, at that instant, 
you ran in between them and grabbed his arm and wrenched the 
pistol away from him. Then you stood talking to Mr. Jones; then, 
in a moment, he came out and stood on the top step, putting on his 
gloves. He was laughing to himself. I heard the shot, from the door 
behind him, which was ajar. He gave a groan, staggered and fell 

43 



head-first, down the steps. I jumped from the auto and ran to catch 
him, when I saw Bartlett run out of the Laboratory doof, with his 
hat and coat. I could see he was very angry. He never looked my 
way and he didn't see either of us. Of course he did it! He killed 
my employer! 

JUDGE. Wait, Watson! You are jumping at conclusions! I don't 
believe he did! 

WATSON. Why, Sir 

JUDGE. Wait! Do you think he would rush by the man he had 
just shot and never look that way? 

WATSON, (puzzled.) Well, that DID seem strange to me, Sir. 

JUDGE. The pistol was found in the hall, where the shot was 
fired. It is not known whose revolver it is. No one knew of Mr. 
Bartlett ever carrying a pistol. You see there may be a mistake. 

WATSON, (doggedly.) No Sir! I don't see! He had a pistol 
in here. He did it! 

JUDGE. Yes. But I took that pistol away from him. You saw 
me dis-arm him. Besides, it might have been Jones' pistol. 

WATSON. I don't care! He must have got it and shot Mr. Jones. 
You are all trying to shield him, but I'll tell all I know! You can't 
trap me, nor gag me nor bribe me! I guess I saw enough to fix him! 
You'll see! (exits angrily. D. L. F. and L.) 

JUDGE. He's an awkward witness! I'm afraid of him! 

CDAU. Uncle Charlie, what did you do with the pistol when 
you took it away from Frank? 

JUDGE. I don't know! I wish I did! In the excitement of the 
moment, I can't think what I did with it! If I could only know that 
Frank did not get it, before he left the room, it would make a big 
difference! 

JOHN, (tensely.) That boj^ must be saved! 

JUDGE. I hope so, John! But, unless something new turns up, 
it looks almost hopeless! 

CLAU. (alarmed.) Oh, you don't mean there is no hope? 

JUDGE. (sadly.) Little girl, we may as well face the truth! 
Nothing but a miracle can save Frank! 

JOHN, (wildly, starts up.) Charlie! Don't! Don't! This mast 
not, — shall not be! That boy is innocent! I — I — (clutches at his 
throat and falls back in their arms. They lower him to chair, his 
head on table. Clau. holding him and bending over him. Judge be- 
hind chair.) 

JUDGE. His mind has given way! 

Curtain. 



ACT 4. 

ACT IV. Laboratory and Library Set. Doors R. and L. 3. and L. 
C. in flats. Window, with moon-light effect L. 2. — Telephone above, 
(up stage from) window. Fireplace with red fire effect, R. 2. — Dark 
night backing, (glass porch or conservatory effect, few plants. Same 
as previous acts,) for D. L. F. — Table, with books, bottles, retorts, 
call-bell, Mission lamp, (substantial, that is fastened to table,) with 

44 



opaque shade, to turn up or low ("Hi-lo") on table. Green silk or 
satin table-cloth (and red table-scarf thrown over L. front corner ta 
draw off the green in his delirium, to get the green effect, (reflex).) 
Chairs R. and L. of table. — Large easy chair above fire-place. — Mis- 
sion settee L. in moon-light, by window, facing audience. Mission 
clock up L. against flat. Doors to lock. — D. L. F. to be burst open. 
All furniture Mission. — Red light shines out of fire-place. Green 
moon-light through window L. Student lamp on table turned low, 
and lights very low for John's entrance. Shade of this lamp must 
come so low that the light only falls on table and is reflected up' 
from the cloth. Can be brass or opaque, so as not to counteract ef- 
fect of light on cloth, (red and green.) D. L. F. open, backing very 
dark, light of candle seen coming along hall before John appears in 
door, with fine, old brass candle-stick and candle, in L. hand, throw- 
ing strong side light on L. side of his face, so as to cast strong" 
shadows. Make wierd effect, — Medieval, — sort of Alchemist effect. 
Have him watch the different lights so as to take advantage of them 
for his different emotions, that is to sit in the right light. Can use 
the table tricks for quick effects, and changes. In scene with Blanche, 
he can use the red table effect and then go L. to get the green moon- 
light effect, for pale. — He must blow out candle after turning up 
lamp. 

NEL. (enters D. L. 3. at rise.) Can I come in? Hello! Nobody 
here? Oh my! I know it's wicked to be so happy, when everybody 
here is so sad; but I can't help it! Aunt Dot is coming to bring 
Charlie, tomorrow! O-o-oh! I wish it was tomorrow now! Why 
don't Daddy come home? I'm as lonesome as a poor, little cove oyster 
in church supper stew! I haven't had a good laugh nor a good row 
today! I wish Daddy would come! (goes to 'phone.) Hello Central! 
— Give me Broadway, M. 1129.. Hey? — What's that? — You're chewing 
gum! I can't understand you! — What's that? — I've been eating on- 
ions? — you can smell my breath? — It's your own breath! You've been 
kissing the grocer's boy! Say! You've been picked too soon! You're 
green yet! You're too fresh for use! — What's that? Folks letting 
fresh kids play with the telephone? I'll have you understand I'm 
old enough to be my own grandmother! — What's that? — Old enough 
to be your grandmother? Say! I couldn't be your grandmother! 
I'm not a chimpanzee! — ^Who's an old maid? — Say! You put in your 
false teeth so you can talk plain! — You hook me onto my Dad's office 
or I'll report you to the Emperor of the Telephone! — Hello! Is 
that you, Mr. Smith? — Is Daddy there? — Isn't he coming home to- 
night? — What's that? — Busy? — What's he doing? — Dictating to his 
type-writer? — What! — Both hands patting the Type-writer? — (aside.) 
I'll have to interview my Dad! — What? — Having trouble with his 
Type -writer? — Where is he now? — On the chair? — Well, and the Type- 
writer? — Sitting on the table? — (aside.) Humph! My Dad needs 
looking after! — What! Got the Type- writer on his lap now? — (aside.) 
Huh! When I'm married, I'll adopt my Dad or I'll lose him! — What? 
— Both arms around the Type-writer? (aside.) Why, this is awful! 
— Helping put a new ribbon on the Type- writer? — You tell my Dad 
to leave that* woman alone! I'm listening! — O-O-Oh! ! ! The MA- 
CHINE! — I thought you meant the girl! — That's different! — You stop 

45 



teasing me! or I'll tell my Dad on you! — You tell him to come home! 
rm lonesome! — You laugh just like a cackling hen! You make me 
"Ennui!" (hangs up receiver.) That Smith fellow is too bright! 
He'll tarnish! Tried to make me think my Dad was getting gay! — 
The red-headed, freckle-faced thing! His mouth goes clear round! 
He has to take hold of the top of his head and grind it around when 
he chews! (BLANCHE enters D. R. 2) Hello, Aunt Blanche! 

BLANCHE. Are you all alone? 

NEL. Yes. I'm waiting for my Daddy. I'm just hungry to hug 
somebody! (hugs BLANCHE.) 

BLANCHE. Dear, innocent child! 

NEL. Where's Uncle John? 

BLANCHE. I don't know, dear. I haven't seen him today. 

NEL. He wanders round like a ghost! You mustn't leave him 
alone this way! He'll go crazy! Talk to him, Aunt Blanche! Visit 
with him! He loves you so, it will do him more good than anything 
in the world! 

BLANCHE. Oh, Nellie dear! I can't talk to anyone now! 

NEL. You must! It vWll kill him if you don't! 

BLANCHE. Kill him? 

NEL. Yes! He's just dying of "Lonesome" for you! You don't 
want him to die! 

BLANCHE, (shudders.) No, dear! No! 

NEL. Let's go find him. Aunt Blanche! and you be nice and sweet 
and loving to him! Wait! I'll fix the lamp! (fixing it.) 

BLANCHE, (aside.) "Sweet and loving!" Poor child! If she only 
knew! 

NEL. There! I've turned it low. We mustn't put it out. He has 
got so, lately, that he dreads to be alone, at night, without a light. 

BLANCHE. I know! He seems to have a horror of the dark. 
What can it mean? (they exit D. R. 3) (PAUSE — candle light ef- 
fects.) 

JOHN, (enters slowly D. L. F. from L. see notes and pictures 
above.) Again the long, black, awful night! Each fleeting shadow 
becomes a malignant, animated thing! Thank God tonight is the 
last! I could not bear another! It will drive me mad! I must take 
the dread leap in the dark! There is no other way! That alone can 
save him, — poor Frank! Thus only can I shield my child's heart 
from this crushing blow! My confession and death! I'll not be pa- 
raded before the gaping rabble, — the mob, to shame my child! I will 
be my own Judge, my own executioner! I will sit in judgment on my 
own act and die, like a Roman, proudly and alone! It will be rest 
at last! Rest at last! This remorse would hound me till the hor- 
ror of each Spectre-haunted night would shake my reason, and mad- 
ness in mercy, would bring forgetfulness and blank oblivion! (to 
table, turns up light. PUTS OUT CANDLE.) Does the Judge, who 
sentences, the executioner, who puts to death the criminal, suffer 
this horror, this remorse? Is it because I was at once his victim, his 
judge and executioner? He had done me a wrong bitterer than 
death, — more savage and cruel than murder! Is it because I can- 
not forget the Divine mandate: "Vengeance is mine! I will repay!" 
Was it retribution, revenge, or cold, impartial justice? Oh, I don't 

46 



know! I don't know! (Blanche enters unseen, D. R. 3.) He ruined 
my home! (she stops, transfixed.) The love, that had been my 
guiding- star, he blotted out! Blanche, the idol (she passing" C. back 
of table.) of my boyish love, the bride of my young manhood, — 
Blanche, to my fond passionate heart, the living incarnation of all 
that is fairest and most beautiful in woman; — the wife I honored, 
loved, adored, (she in L. and back of him.) the mother of our child, 
he, — he dragged down to shame and ruin! (she stifles a sob.) (He 
starts, not looking around.) Ha! • What's that? (rises in fear, as 
though dreading the supernatural. Turns.) Blanche! 

BLANCHE. John! (falls on her knees L. of him.) John, kill 
me, if you will! 

JOHN. So! You have heard! 

BLANCHE. Yes! 

JOHN. The mask, then, has fallen between us! We stand face 
to face with the gulf of shame between! You have sown the 

wind and we are all reaping the whirl-wind! Yours the sin, ours the 
awful harvest! 

BLANCHE, (cowering.) You know, then, John? 

JOHN, (sinks in chair.) All! (gives her letter.) 

BLANCHE. My God! His letter! 

JOHN. Yes. It was among the notes, obliterated by the chemical. 
By an accident, I discovered your guilty secret, — your crime! 

BLANCHE. Be merciful! Spare me! 

JOHN, (crossing L. of her.) Spare you? Did you spare me or 
your child? Can you blot out this crime? Can you call back your 
innocence, your purity, like a truant bird? Can you v/ipe out this 
brand of shame that you have burned and seared into my brow and 
on your child's? Can you restore the holy purity of Home, the 
sacredness that dwells in the names Wife and Mother? Can you 
give back the spotless whiteness of the honored name that you have 
blackened and defiled? 

BLANCHE, (rises C. defiant.) John Allston, hear me! You shall 
deal justly with me! I will not stand a cowering culprit at the 
tribunal of your anger! You know all! All the shame, the sin, the 
despair that racks my heart and that has wrecked your life and 
mine! I will not attempt to palliate nor excuse it! But who was 
to blame? 

JOHN. Who? You, who hurled yourself down to ruin and dragged 
my soul down after you! 

BLANCHE. No, John Allston! You, who should have staid me, 
— saved me, that I should not fall into the depths! 

JOHN. What do you mean? 

BLANCHE. You married me, innocent, ignorant of your world 
and its ways, gay, buoyant, fond of pleasure, — and launched me into 
a summer sea of the most brilliant social life of New York. 

JOHN, (going L. sadly.) I gave you, my wife, "entre" to its 
best society. Well? (he sits on settee. She R. and back of him, C.) 

BLANCHE, (impassioned.) You threw me into the whirl-pool, 
alone, unguarded, unguided! You did not care for society. You had 
your ambition, your life, and all apart from mine. You were the 
student; you made me the butter-fly! In your science, your study, 

47 



your ambition, ;j^ou built yourself a world of your own. I had no 
part in it, and you no part in my life, — the life into which you had 
thrown me. If we drifted apart, whose fault was it? 

JOHN, (on settee.) My God! Can this be true? 

BLANCHE. You know it is true, John Aliston! 

.JOHN, (wildly.) But why did you not tell me this? Why did 
you not come to me who loved you so, who adored you? Why did 
you not warn me? 

BLANCHE. Warn you? (laughs bitterly.) Do you suppose I 
saw the danger till it was too late? Do you think I walked deliber- 
ately, v/illfully and with open eyes, to our down-fall? Do you think 
I sought this ruin? If you neglected me, others were attentive, con- 
siderate, devoted. I was flattered, pleased at first. Oh, you know 
the old story! The dawn of love, and passion, — a moment of weak- 
ness, a wild, whirling, unexpected crisis, and I was lost! Lost! 

JOHN, (in agony.) O God! — Blanche! 

BLANCHE. There was no turning back. That new, wicked, pas- 
sionate love, once wakened, could never be crushed out! Honor, in- 
nocence, purity, all were gone! There was nothing but to cling 
madly, passionately to the man to v/hom I had sacrificed all! You, 
John Aliston, you might have prevented it! You did not! You 
have only yourself to blame for my sin and shame and your own dis- 
honor! 

JOHN. So, this is your excuse, your palliation! You, the wife I 
adored, you, who had but to express a wish to have it gratified, — 
you, whose slightest whim was a sacred command to the lover- 
husband who was your devotee! Had you loved me and your sweet 
child better than that hollow mockery. Society, your virtue would 
have found in Home a citadel that Shame could not have stormed! 
But no! You preferred their lying flatteries, their crafty, wooing 
temptations, to the honest love of an honest man, a devoted hus- 
band! You tore yourself out of my life and hurled yourself, body 
and soul, into that mad dance of Death! 

BLANCHE. You knew of these temptations. Why did you fling 
me, alone, into their midst? 

JOHN. Because I thought you so true, so pure that I trusted 
you as I would an angel! 

BLANCHE, (with bitter scorn.) Faugh! A woman is human! 
Had you cared for society, the end would have been different! I 
should not have had to receive attentions at the hands of other men, 
that I should have had, unsought, at the hands of my husband! 

JOHN, (rises and comes facing her.) No! A vain, weak, frivol- 
ous, heartless woman, susceptible to flattery, the end would have 
been the same! You forgot husband and child, for they were not 
of your world! Your home, with all its tender ties, was nothing to 
you! You were false at heart and you fell! Our child, deprived of 
a mother's tenderness, sought refuge in my love and companion- 
ship. Saddened by your neglect, we became all to each other! That 
pure, innocent, noble girl, your child and mine, you have wrecked 
her life, blackened her future, blotted out her happiness forever! 

BLANCHE, (shrinking before him.) Don't, John! Don't! 
JOHN. She must never learn her mother's sin! 

48 



BLANCHE, (aside.) Thank Heaven he does not know! 

JOHN. You must suffer alone, in silence! Your haunting shame, 
the ghost of your dead innocence, will drive you to the brink of mad- 
ness, till you will see, ever before your eyes, the blood your crime 
has cost! (she in R. of fire, he sinks in chair L. of table.) I made 
you my honored wife! He made you his dishonored wanton! Would 
you know what you have done? Listen! Your pure love would have 
been the light of my life, the pure. Spring sun-shine to that sweet, 
budding rose, our child! It would have made our home a Heaven! 
(rising.) But your shame has driven me mad! Mad! and I killed 
him! D'ye hear? I killed him! Ha, ha, ha! I killed him! (C.) 

BLANCHE, (with horror, facing him.) John Allston, you? You 
his murderer? (fiercely.) You killed the man I loved? Yes! 
LOVED! I tell you to your teeth, LOVED! His blood be on your 
hands, — your head, — your soul! 

JOHN, (with suppressed fierceness, almost savagery.) The wolf 
that enters the fold, the robber, that breaks into the house, takes his 
life in his own hands! His blood is on his own head and yours! 
Yours! Adulteress first, and then a double murderess! 

BLANCHE, (shrinking.) "A double murderess?" What do you 
mean? 

JOHN. Wait! You shall know all tomorrow! (sinks in chair 
L. of table.) 

CLAUDIA enters D. L. F. comes down L. of John, who has sunk 
in chair, falls on knees, weeping.) 

CLAU. Father! 

JOHN. My child! 

CLAU. There is no hope! No hope! Frank must die! I come to 
you, my last, my only refuge, in my despair and woe! Yours is the 
only heart in all the world, where I, your heart-broken child, may 
bring her burden of Sorrow! (Blanche shows emotion and remorse 
at her words.) (Clau. has buried her face in John's lap, weeping.) 

JOHN, (strokes her hair.) Poor child! Poor child! (he points 
sternly for Blanche to go. She turns slowly, crushed and sobbing and 
exits R. 3) Claudie dear, be comforted! It cannot be so bad as that! 

CLAU. (wildly.) No! My last hope is gone! The detectives have 
given up the case. They say there is not the slightest clue to hang 
a defense on! Frank is lost! Lost! 

JOHN. Listen, child! Look in my face! I have never told you 
aught but truth! To hold out false hopes to you now, would only' 
make your despair, at last, more bitter still! All is not lost! 

CLAU. Father! What do you m«an? 

JOHN. The case is not hopeless! 

CLAU. (eagerly.) Not hopeless? O Father! I know you would 
not deceive me! Tell me! 

JOHN. My darling child, you must be calm! You must control 
yourself! There is more than hope! Charles and I have discovered 
new evidence. 

CLAU. (joyously, starting to her feet.) New evidence? A clue? 

JOHN. More than a clue; dear one! It is a certainty. 

CLAU. (drops on knees again, embraces him.) Bless you. Father! 
Bless you! 

49 



JOHN. Claudia, when you were a wee, little chubby mite, I held 
you to my heart and prayed God that I might shield you from all 
pain, all harm! I made a vow to Heaven that I would stand between 
you and all sorrow. I have kept that oath! You, Heart of my heart, 
shall know how well I have kept it! I have found the one who 
killed that man! 

CLAU. Father! You? 

JOHN. Yes, dear one. My evidence will clear Frank at once. 

CLAU. Oh, tell me, dear! Who was it? Tell me all! 

JOHN, (troubled.) Not now, darling! Don't ask me now! I 
cannot tell you now! 

CLAU. I don't understand, Father! 

JOHN. Wait! You shall know all tomorrow — in the morning, when 
Frank is free and in your dear arms! 

CLAU. Oh, I must go to him! I must tell him! (starts up.) 

JOHN. You could not see him tonight; but I will get a message 
to him, in his prison. . He shall rest tonight in the sweet assurance 
of freedom tomorrow. 

CLAU. Oh, you are so good, my darling Father! 

JOHN, (patting her eagerly and tenderly.) Go rest, my child! 
My little girl! This strain has almost killed you! Rest now and 
wake to joy and love tomorrow! 

CLAU. Yes, dearest, I will! God bless you. Father! God bless 
you! (kisses him.) 

JOHN, (with deep feeling.) My Claudie! (she has risen and 
crosses to R. front of table.) Dear one, don't forget to pray for your 
poor father tonight! (sinks in chair.) 

CLAU. (in alarm, turns and drops on knees front of him.) Father! 

JOHN, (looks sadly into her eyes.) Claudie, you will always re- 
member me tenderly, lovingly? 

CLAU. (with arms around him.) Father, what do you mean? 

JOHN. Oh, nothing, child! I am morbid tonight! That's all! 
Death comes so near to us, sometimes, that we shudder, as we think 
someone is walking across our graves! 

CLAU. Father! You frighten me! Are you ill? 

JOHN. No darling; but all men must die sooner or later! We 
never know! When my time shall come, I don't care for the world's 
remembrance; but you, the Light of my life! You must not forget 
me! You must love me still! 

CLAU. (weeps.) Father dear! 

JOHN. I could not rest in my grave if I thought you had forgot- 
ten me ! 

CLAU. Don't! Don't! You shall live, — live for my sake! You 
frighten me so! Nothing in the world could ever take your dear 
place in my heart! Why do you say this, Father? 

JOHN, (clasping her.) Because, dearest one, I love you so! Bet- 
ter than anything on earth! I am just low-spirited tonight! Don't 
let my grim fancies cloud your joy, your young love! Let me feel 
your dear head against my old heart! Let me hold you in the shel- 
tering clasp of my loving arms! It will bring rest and peace and 
"calm to my burdened soul! 

CLAU. Dear Heart! 

50 



JOHN. Good nig-ht, Claudie, my child! Good night! God bless 
you, loved one! (kisses her.) 

CLAU. Good night, Father! (they go R. together, to D. R. 3 He 
picks up her braid of hair or scarf and kisses it. She feels him and 
turns.) 

CLAU. Father! 

JOHN, (takes her face in his hands, looks long into her eyes.) 
Dear, loving eyes! (kisses her lips, her eyes, her hair, her cheek — 
shows strong suppressed emotion.) Sweet face, that has been my 
solace, my happiness! You have been so good, so loving to me. Child! 
Good night, Claudie! My darling! God bless and make you happy 
and shield you from all harm! 

CLAU. (kisses him.) Father! Dear, tender, gentle Father! I love 
you so! (she kisses him again.) Good night! (exits D. R. 3.) 

JOHN, (overcome with emotion.) Good by my child, forever! 
(bursts into tears, groping way toward L. of table. Sinks in chair, 
terrible emotion. Picks up her photo. Kisses it tenderly. Then looks 
long at it.) Claudia! It seems but yesterday I held you in these 
arms, a little baby girl! Ah, life was all happiness to me then! And 
now how changed! Now, like the Apples of Sodom, it is dust and 
ashes to my lips! All, all is mockery and a curse! All! All, but 
your dear, pure love! For your dear sake, I make the sacrifice! (takes 
phial.) The Upas Poison! It is painless! I shall not suffer much! 
There is no other way! (takes out papers from pocket.) This con- 
fession will clear Frank; (with phial.) and this will settle all ac- 
counts! I could not bear the vulgar publicity of a trial! 

JUDGE, (entering D. L. F.) Good evening, John! 

JOHN, (hides phial.) Ah, Charlie! You startled me! Sit down! 

JUDGE, (crosses to fire-place and sits.) I am dead tired and 
blue, John! I am up against a stone wall! I can't find a clue to 
hang a doubt on in Frank's case! But I don't believe he killed 
Jones! 

JOHN, (rising nervously.) Charlie, he didn't kill him! 

JUDGE. How do you know, John? Can you prove it? 

JOHN. Yes! 

JUDGE. Well, for Heaven's sake, why don't you do it, man? 

JOHN, (walking L. C. slowly.) You have my will, leaving every- 
thing to Claudia? 

JUDGE. Yes. Why? 

JOHN. In case I should die at any time. I am not well, you know. 

JUDGE. Nonsense, John! Once throw off this mental strain, and 
you'll be all right in a week! 

JOHN. It's just as well to be prepared for any emergency. Did 
you patent the Nitrate Formula? 

JUDGE. Yes, the day you gave it to me. Why? 

JOHN, (stands facing him, near him, by fire.) Listen, Charlie! 
We have been friends, — like brothers, — from boys up. I have some- 
thing to tell you tonight. Something I could not tell to anyone living 
but you! (in front of Judge.) Charlie, Edward Jones stole that 
Nitrate Formula! 

JUDGE, (turns, astonished.) What? 

JOHN, (tensely.) Charlie, if you were married to a woman whom 

51 



you loved as your heart's blood, and a scoundrel entered your home, 
in the guise of a friend, and stole her, — ruined her, what would you 
do? 

JUDGE. Good Heavens, John! You don't mean 

JOHN. Answer me! What would you do? 

JUDGE. I'd kill him like a snake! 

JOHN. And that is just what I did! 

JUDGE, (starting to his feet.) My God, John! You? 

JOHN. Yes! I killed that man! 

JUDGE, (amazed.) You? 

JOHN, (bitterly.) He ruined my home, — won away the love of 
Blanche, my wife, — made her his mistress, — his hypnotized slave! 
She stole the nitrate formula for him! 

JUDGE. By the Eternal, John! I don't — I can't believe it! Are 
you sure? 

JOHN, (fiercely.) I g-ot his letter to her, appointing an assigna- 
tion, at their old meeting place! I saw her in his arms! I saw her 
press her guilty kisses to his lips! O God! 

JUDGE. I'd have killed him in her arms! 

JOHN. You forget! I could not! For Claudia's sake, I had to 
hide her Mother's shame! The world must never know it! Claudia 
must never know! 

JUDGE. Right, John!— But Frank? 

JOHN. Have no fear! I'll save him! 

JUDGE. How? 

JOHN, (giving papers.) Here is my confession! 

JUDGE. Your confession? 

JOHN. Yes. In this I have told the world that I killed him be- 
cause he stole that formula, worth millions. Even were it not for 
my child's sake, the rabble shall never know that an Allston has 
stooped to shame! — that the wife of John Allston was the mistress, — 
the play- thing of a scoundrel! — that she had dragged the proud old 
name through the mire! 

JUDGE. Yes! You are right! But is there no other way to save 
him? 

JOHN. None! You, yourself, know how hopeless is the case, un- 
less the truth is told. 

JUDGE. John, this is awful! 

JOHN. I have thought it all out till my heart and brain have 
almost burst! It is the only way! 

JUDGE. And you mean that you give me this confession to make 
public? 

JOHN. Yes! 

JUDGE. Have you thought what that means, John? 

JOHN. Yes, I know! That innocent boy must be saved, cost what 
it may! 

JUDGE. Yes, you are right! My God, man! Your courage is 
simply sublime ! 

JOHN, (smiles sadly.) I have always had the courage to do right, 
Charlie! But remember, I have told you, in confidence, my real reason 
for the deed. You have promised to keep, my secrets, when communi- 
cated to, and received by you as such, as secure and inviolable as 

53 



your own. I am not asking you to keep the secret of a murder, but 
of the real motive that led to it. 

JUDGE, (grasps his hand.) I promise, John! I'll keep your sec- 
ret on the square! 

JOHN. God bless you, Charlie! 

JUDGE. This paper must be signed, witnessed and sealed in legal 
form, (touches bell.) We must have witnesses. 

JOHN, (alarmed.) Witnesses? (James enters D. R. 3.) 

JUDGE. James, bring Nellie here and come with her. I want: 
you both. (James exits.) 

JOHN. Must it be read to them? 

JUDGE. No. They simply sign it and witness your oath. , 

JOHN. Thank God! \ 

NEL. (enters with James. D. R. 3.) Well, Daddy! What is it? 

JUDGE. John has an important paper, here, that he wants you" 
two to witness, (to John.) "You solemnly swear that this statement 
is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, to the best 
of your knowledge, so help you God?" 

JOHN. I do! 

JUDGE. Sign there, John. (bus.) You two will sign here, at 
witnesses, (bus.) That's all. Now you may go. 

JOHN, (to James.) James, I may need the auto. Don't leave 
the house. 

JAMES. Very well. Sir! (they exit.) 

JUDGE. I'll take this to my office and put my seal on it. (rises.) 

JOHN, (grasps his hand.) Don't be gone long, Charlie! I need 
you! God knows if ever a man needed a friend, I need one tonight! 

JUDGE. I'll be back in half an hour, John, (going up C.) 

JOHN. Send word to Frank at once, that he is safe! (sinks In 
chair.) the murderer has confessed! 

JUDGE. I'll send him word at once, (aside.) That man is not 
sane! I can clear him! (exits D. L. F. and off L.) 

JOHN, (goes up and locks doors L. F. and D. L. 3.) There! It is 
done! The die is cast! There is no turning back! I must play 
it now, to the bitter end! (at table.) I have been merciful to her, 
the wife I loved, the mother of my child! I have been just to him, 
the man who wrecked my life; just to Frank, my son, my Claudia's 
love. I shall not hesitate to do justice to myself. The effete world 
would call my deed a crime! So be it! I will pay the penalty! It 
shall not exact it of me! (picks up phials.) The Upas Poison! It 
is a kindly executioner! No pain! It is but to sink away! It will 
soon be over! (takes photo.) Claudia, my child! My darling! Heart 
of my heart, soul of my soul! For your sweet sake I die! God will 
be merciful to him, who like the dear Christ, gives up his life for 
those he loves! (about to drink.) Ha! I must live till Charlie 
returns! I must last half an hour! (Measures poison in graduate 
and drinks.) Father! I have paid the penalty! I have made the 
atoneinent! In Thy mercy, receive my soul! (pause, sees other 
phial.) Ah! The antidote! That, alone, could save me! All there 
is in the world is in this little phial! My mind might wander, and 
in my delirium, I might take it! (dashes it in fire.) There! No 
power on Earth can save me now, — can change my purpose! I have 

53 



said good bye to life and I am alone with Death! He said he would 
be back in half an hour! My spark of life will not go out before 
that. Ha! It is weakening me! 

NEL. (enters D. R. 3.) Can I come in? Where's Daddy? 

JOHN. He has gone to the office. Come here, Dear! (she comes 
to him.) Do something for me, Nellie! 

NEL. (caresses him.) Why, of caurse. Uncle John! 

JOHN. Have James take you, in the Auto, to your Father's of- 
fice, and bring him as quickly as you can! 

NELi. (alarmed.) Uncle John! Are you sick? 

JOHN. I don't feel well, dear. 

NEL. I'll call Claw and Aunt Blanche! 

JOHN, (restraining her.) No, no! It is nothing! I want Charlie! 
Go quickly^ dear! 

NEL. (goes up R.) Uncle John, let me call them! 

JOHN. No, Nellie. I v/ould be alone. 

NEL. (anxiously.) I'm afraid to leave you this way! I'm afraid 
something is wrong with you. Uncle John! I know it! I feel it! 

JOHN. No, little girl, I'm well, — well! Go, dear! Go quickly! 
I have something to tell him! 

NEL. (comes to him and throws arms around his neck and kisses 
him.) If anything were to happen to you, while I am gone, I'd never 
forgive myself! Next to Daddy, I love you and Claw best in the 
world! 

JOHN, (with feeling.) Dear, bright, little Nellie! If all women 
were as pure and sweet as you, this world would be almost a Heaven! 
(kisses her forehead.) 

NEL. Uncle John! 

JOHN. There! Go now, for my sake! (rises.) 

NEL. Good bye! If you want anyone, touch the bell, (near D. R. 
3.) 

JOHN. I will, if I want anyone. (she exits calling "James!") 
(John staggers to 'phone R. 2 by door and rings.) Give me Broadway, 
M. 1129. — Is that you, Charlie? — This is Allston. Did you send word 
to Frank? — Good! I have sent Nellie and James to you with the 
auto. Come quickly, or you will be too late. — I mean I shall be dead 
before you get here. — Too late! I have taken poison! Corrie quick! 
(hangs up receiver, turns toward table.) I am getting weak! Weak! 

BLANCHE, (enters D. R. 3) John! 

JOHN. You? 

BLANCHE. Yes! 

JOHN. Why have you come? 

BLANCHE. I could not stay away! You have torn my heart out! 
Why did you kill him? I, too, am guilty! Then kill me too! It is 
just! (sinks at his feet. R. C.) 

JOHN. No! Death and forge tfulness would be a mercy to you! 
This be your punishment, — your curse! to live and remember! You 
have planted the thorns of remorse that shall tear you like the claws 
of fiends. 

BLANCHE, (in terror.) John! Have mercy! 

JOHN. You shall think, till you fear the darkness and shriek a 
prayer for dawn; for you shall see accusing eyes glare on you from 
the gloom! 

54 



BLANCHE. Spare me! 

JOHN, (over her, R.) Tomorrow, you will remember what I have 
said! For Claudia's sake, the world shall never know your shame, 
but you shall never forget it! 

BLANCHE. John! Kill me, if you will; but do not curse me! 

JOHN. Curse you? — May agony wring from your false heart a 
bitter, wailing prayer of repentance; and then, but not till then, may 
God forgive you! Leave me! 

BLANCHE. Have you no mercy? 

JOHN. Mercy? What mercy did you show the true, innocent 
hearts that loved- you? Mercy? Ha, ha, ha! Your shame made me 
a mad-man and I have forgotten the word! I know not what you 
mean! 

BLANCHE, (in despair.) John! John! 

JOHN. Tomorrow you shall gasp that name with horror! 

BLANCHE (rising, frightened.) John! Speak! What do you 
mean? 

JOHN. No matter! You will know soon enough! Soon enough! 
Go! Leave me! 

BLANCHE, (near D. R. 3.) John! (turns pleading.) 

JOHN. Go! For God's sake, go! And may Heaven forgive you! 
(She exits. He closes door and locks it.) — as I do! O Blanche, my wife! 
You have broken my heart, shattered my life and hurled my soul to 
Hell; but God knows I pity and forgive you, poor, lost woman! (weeps.) 
(staggers, sinks to knee.) Ha! The poison! (gets to feet by aid 
of chair R. of table.) I am sinking fast! (comes back of table to 
L. looks on floor.) God! It is there! (sinks in chair L. draws scarf 
for light trick.) In the back of the head! See the blood! (passes 
hand over eyes. Savagely.) My mind wanders! My God! I must 
keep my reason till the last! I must not die a mad-man! (bus.) 
No! There's the body! (rises.) See? No! It is delirium! < walks 
across and through the imaginary body. Kicks it.) There is noth- 
ing there! Ha, ha, ha! (sinks in chair.) O God, give me my reason 
till the last! (takes photo.) My child! My darling! Ha! I am 
sinking fast! Let me hold your hands, Claudie! It's getting dark! 
(rouses.) Oh, I must not die till Charlie comes! O God! Will he 
never get here? Oh, for the sound of that auto! Can I last till then? 
(sound of distant approaching auto.) Hark! Thank Heaven! At 
last! At last! (to photo, kisses it.) Claudia, my angel child! Don't 
forget your poor Father! (head sinks on arms on table.) 

JUDGE, (out L. U.) Quick, Nel! Call Claudia and his wife! 

NEL. (outside, going out R. calls.) Claudia! Aunt Blanche! 

JOHN, (rousing.) My little Claudie! (still clutches photo.) 

JUDGE, (outside D. L. F.) John! Open the door! 
JOHN, (feebly.) I— I— can't! 
JUDGE. Open it, or I'll burst it in! 

JOHN. I — I — (door burst in. Judge enters, John tries to turn, 
raising head, but slips off chair and falls in limp heap, head L. just 
as door burst in.) (Judge springs to him, lifts him.) (feebly.) 
Charlie! Thank God! 

JUDGE. John! Man! Yv'hy have you done this? 

55 



JOHN. For Claudia's sake and Franks! Ha! — (sinks unconscious.) 

JUDGE. Dead! (Clau. with wrapper over night-gown and Nel. 
rush on D. L. F.) 

CLAU. Father! 

JUDGE, (raises hand.) Heart disease! 

CLAU. (falls on knees back of John; head in her arms. Nel. L. 
by his head.) Father! Father! Look up! Speak to me! (the photo 
falls on floor.) 

JOHN, (opens eyes.) Don't forget me! — (Dies. Clau. screams 
and bends over him, weeping. Nel. head bowed, weeping.) Blanche 
enters D. L. F. to R. near table.) (speaks as coming on.) 

BLANCHE. John! (to Judge.) What has happened? 

JUDGE, (pointing.) Hush! (Blanche comes front of table and R.) 

CLAU. Father! Father! Dead! Dead! 

JUDGE, (aside to Blanche, sternly.) This is your work! Two! 

NEL. Poor Uncle John! (sobs.) ^ 

BLANCHE, (falls on knees, R. of John.) John! John! Forgive 
me ! Forgive ! 

JUDGE. Too late! He is dead! (She overwhelmed with grief and 
remorse.) (Judge picks up photo.) Poor fellow! His child's picture! 
PICTURE. CURTAIN. END OF PLAY. 



56 



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